

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 


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Beautifol Mrs. Thorndyke, 


A NOVEL. 


BY / 

EDITH EVELYN BIGELOW. 



JIlN 1 1888 V/ 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 


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Copyright, 1888, by J. B. Lippincott Company. 


LIPPINCOTT’S 

I^ONTHLY J^AGAZINE. 

JUNE, 1888. 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


CHAPTER I. 

A mericans are eminently gregarious, and show this quality in 
their choice of dwellings. If any one doubts this statement, let 
him recall all that he has seen of the places easy of access to New 
York ; the sea-side resorts where the houses stand in long continuous 
lines on the shore ; where everybody knows just who is visiting every- 
body else, and what they will all have for dinner ; where it is unsafe 
to dress of a morning without a great lowering of blinds and furtive 
glances in order to ascertain who is regarding one from the walk along 
the bluff, or the contiguous — ^the very contiguous — piazza of a neigh- 
bor's house. 

Somehow, an Englishman appears to object to having strangers 
peering into his windows. He buys himself — if he chance not to be- 
long to that favored class which find everything ready-made for them 
— several acres at least, and surrounds them with a brick wall ten feet 
high, crowned with inhospitable broken bottles or still more uninviting 
iron spikes. Exclusiveness seems to him a part of aristocracy. The 
lower classes may inhabit tidy little suburban cottages and semi- 
detached villas, with names long enough to reach from attic to cellar 
if placed perpendicularly, but the well-bred Briton, the country gen- 
tleman, the man with a rent-roll and an undisputed right to a coat of 
arms, cannot and will not bear the vulgar gaze, and shuts himself out 
of sight as best he may. 

The average American, by reason of his press of business cares, 
must needs live near a railway-station if he reside ^^out of town." 
The greatest recommendation contained in an advertisement of a 
country-house is the alluring assertion that it is ‘‘ five minutes' walk 
from the station." 

One often sees a twenty-thousand-dollar Queen Anne" mansion 

719 


720 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


standing on a plot of ground not large enough to accommodate a 
moderate-sized kitchen-garden. The houses on both sides seem to be 
elbowing it. The inmates of one dwelling can sit on the piazza and 
hear what is being said by the persons on the balcony next door. 

Next to the desire for easy access to trains, probably the servant 
question furnishes the real reason for this gregariousness. 

That question alone would fill a volume if properly discussed and 
treated even from the individual stand-point of one who has suffered 
much in trying to solve the problem. Who has not heard complaints 
from their domestics about the loneliness’^ of most localities ? The 
distance from church is another fruitful source of discontent. 

As every day it becomes more difficult for the luckless American 
housekeeper to obtain or retain reliable servants, she is glad enough, 
doubtless, to fly to one of these suburban communities, where the 
^^help” can find companions to rob the place of its loneliness and 
induce them to stay. 

All this is by way of introduction to the statement that in one of 
tliese semi-detached houses, in a row with many more, in the State of 
New Jersey, not a long way from the line of ferry-boats which connects 
the provincial barbarians with the metropolis, lived Mrs. Hilton, a 
widow, with two daughters. She had not always lived in New Jersey, 
as she sometimes remarked with a good deal of plaintiveness. It was 
not five years since she had resided in a fashionable street in New 
York, and gone into society, if not the best at least the next best, and 
who knows which either of those really is ? 

The cause of her removal from the pomp and circumstance of a 
brown-stone front to a yellow-and-red bay-windowed cottage in a 
neighboring State was not the all-agitating question to which we have 
alluded ; neither was it a wish to be near a railway-station. It was 
simply the fact that her husband, an apparently thriving stock-broker, 
had suddenly been ruined, and had died of chagrin and alcohol shortly 
after. 

Mrs. Hilton found herself bereft of all fortune save a few thou- 
sands which had been settled on her at the time of her marriage. Her 
daughters, girls of respectively twenty and twenty-two years of age, 
had been accustomed to appear and consider themselves rich, even if 
they had never been so, and the calamity fell heavily upon them. 
Jessica, the elder, was really beautiful, clever, and quick-witted, — too 
much so to be a favorite with either sex, — and wonderfully useless and 
impracticable. Lily, the younger, was what is called ^^nice-looking,” 
and had a good deal of adaptability and common sense for her years. 
Jessica had always ruled the house, beginning, when she was not 
quite a year old, to exercise tliat authority which is the prerogative 
of American childhood, and being weakly indulged by her obedient 
parents. She grew into an exceedingly handsome girl, — fair and fresh 
as a girl should be, with a wonderful red and white skin, and hair and 
brows of raven black. 

Her proud father had given her the pet name of Beauty,” and so 
she continued to be called after she had attained her full growth and 
loveliness. The latter was at its height whe^i our story opens. 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDVKE. 


721 


The house which Mrs. Hilton had selected as her place of retire- 
ment and retrenchment was remarkable for nothing save its inconve- 
nience and the largeness of rent in comparison with the money which 
had originally been expended on the structure. It was built in a sort 
of bastard Queen Anne style (how much that good sovereign has been 
responsible for in these latter years !), with jutting windows placed at 
impossible angles, and cheap catchpenny effects in latticed windows, 
inferior stained glass, and other adornments apparently peculiar to 
Queen Anne’^ houses. 

It certainly looked unprepossessing enough on a day in early spring, 
when our proverbial spring weather had left the trees still bare, and 
only the faintest hint of green in the withered grass. The lawn had 
patches of snow on it still. The road was a slough of red mud, and 
the creepers which mercifully draped the Queen Anne enormities in 
summer hung limp and dripping to the yellow wall. 

Inside, things looked more attractive. There was a coal fire glowing 
in the grate of the front parlor. The furniture was all good and sub- 
stantial and tastefully arranged. The enforced economy of the house- 
hold did not manifest itself in the appearance of this room at least. 
That universal curse of American homes, furnace-heat, was w^anting, 
and in consequence the atmosphere was pleasant and not enervating. 
There were two occupants of the parlor, Mrs. Hilton and Jessica. 
The former sat near the fire, in a low chair, with a work-basket beside 
her. A half-darned stocking lay in her lap, but her hands were folded 
idly above it, and her thoughts were evidently very far from her late 
occupation. 

Jessica stood half facing the window, through which a part of the 
sodden, desolate lawn was visible. She held an open letter in her hand. 
Her eyes were fixed on the dreary prospect without. Her gown was 
simple and shabby, — the rainy-day dress’^ of a girl whose best clothes 
were far from being either fresh or costly, — but she was beautiful. 

Something had disturbed the quiet every-day current of their lives. 
That was apparent. There was a look of mingled regret and defiance 
on the face of the younger woman, and an expression of anxiety on 
that of the elder. 

You are quite sure you could not do it?’^ Mrs. Hilton said, with 
a kind of plaintive insistence. She was a small, unobtrusive lady in 
black, with a voice which easily attuned itself to a minor key ; yet 
she was not destitute of a sort of modest perseverance, and there was 
that in her tone which would have convinced any auditor that this was 
not the first time that she had asked the question. 

You are quite sure, Jessica 

Quite siire,^^ said the girl, almost sharply. 

It is giving up a great deal, dear. Do you realize that?^’ 

A great deal of unhappiness, mamma.^^ 

That you only suppose. You can’t be sure.” 

Jessica made a gesture indicative of impatience. 

^^I am just as sure as — as I can be,” she said, ending rather 
weakly. 

Ah, yes, but no surer,” said Mrs. Hilton, nodding her head wisely. 


722 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDVKE. 


I begged you/^ broke out Jessica, turning her back to the win- 
dow, and facing her mother, I begged you not to have any hopes of it 
ever coming about. I never meant to marry him. I kept him from 
asking me for a year. He can’t say I haven’t been honest with 
him.” 

Mrs. Hilton sighed softly. 

Have you any new objections to him. Beauty ?” 

Only the old one.” 

Perhaps you are over-sensitive, love. You certainly like Mr. 
Thorndyke as well as you do anybody.” 

Jessica colored a little. 

I don’t think I do,” she said, bluntly. 

Oh !” said Mrs. Hilton, with a soft tone of surprise. She was 
too discreet to say more. 

I like him too well to marry him, though, mother,” said Jessica, 
throwing herself into a chair. He would bore me to death in a week, 
and he would repent of his bargain.” 

“ I like romance in a young girl, but perhaps you don’t realize how 
largely a happy married life is a question of butchers’ bills and house- 
rent. I don’t want to urge you unduly ; but, my dear, we are very 
poor. Inconvenient as this house is, it is beyond our means. I used 
to be considered a good housekeeper, but I can’t keep house on nothing. 
The servants do eat so ! I suppose it’s the country air. I don’t grudge 
it to them, poor souls, but then all that tells in the monthly bills.” 

Mrs. Hilton’s small face looked very gloomy under its neatly-parted 
hair. 

Jessica laughed a little. 

Poor mother !” she said. I wish a fairy prince would come 
along and make me love him, and then we would shower diamonds and 
gold-pieces on you ! I am so useless. I feel myself only a dead weight 
to the family. Lily is worth twice as much as I.” 

And the laugh ended in a sob. 

I am almost persuaded sometimes ” she went on, and then 

paused, and put her hand to her eyes. 

Poor child !” cried Mrs. Hilton. What should we do without 
you? Never say that you are useless.” 

Indeed, Mrs. Hilton and her younger daughter were contented to do 
the work and regard Jessica in the light of a relaxation, — their picture- 
gallery, their theatre, their library of wit and humor, their one means 
of aesthetic education. And she had hitherto been contented to exist 
beautifully.” 

The subject of the foregoing discussion was Theodore Thorndyke, a 
young New York man. 

He had nothing distinctive about him but his real and unselfish 
passion for Jessica. Vices he had none, and his virtues were negative, 
except the very positive one of having an unencumbered income of 
fifty thousand a year. He was neither very good nor very bad. He 
was not handsome, nor was he ugly. He was nothing but rich and in 
love ; and to some women these two certainties would have been enough 
to constitute the other certainty, — that of a happy future passed in his 


BEAUTIFUL MRS, THORNDYKE. 


723 


society. The Tlioriidykes came of really good stock (not railway 
stock, which is the only ancestor of so many New York grandees), and 
they were proud of their family tree. Never, however, from its branches 
had depended a more insipid specimen of its fruit than Jessica’s suitor, 
Theodore. 

Jessica had considered him in every conceivable light, but she could 
not think of him with equanimity as her future husband. What her 
mother said of their straitened circumstances was all true. She felt it 
as only a beautiful young woman can feel poverty. She loathed her 
shabby gowns, her hundreds of petty economies, which seemed to belittle 
her. She saw other women without a tithe of her good looks or abili- 
ties make brilliant matches and appear to be happy. Why must she 
have so many scruples to prevent her being of their number? All 
this passed once more through her mind as she sat by the fire with her 
mother on that chill April day. 

They were both silent for some time. 

In the midst of this pause the door opened, and Lily entered with 
a basketful of many-hued embroidery silks in her hands. 

I’ve come down to find a warm corner,” she said, in a cheerful, 
matter-of-fact tone. It is freezing up-stairs, and Mrs. Blunt’s curtains 
must be finished. I can’t work with frozen fingers.” 

She sat down and commenced sorting her silks ; then, looking up, 
she noticed the doleful faces of her sister and mother. 

What has happened ? Any more calamities ?” she asked, appre- 
hensively. 

Jessica sighed. 

Only Theodore Thorndyke,” she said. 

^^Oh ! he’s always happening,” said Lily, with a smile of relief. 

But he has happened rather more than usual,” answered Jessica. 

His attentions have crystallized into a set purpose. He is more 
definite than ever.” 

Poor thing ! Have you answered him?” 

Not yet.” 

I wish,” said Mrs. Hilton, almost tremulously, that you could 
encourage your sister a little, Lily. You seem to have common sense : 
why don’t you advise her ?” 

Oh, she scorns advice,” said Lily, threading her needle, and begin- 
ning to operate on a section of the curtain. ^^She knows her own 
mind.” 

I really think,” said Jessica, almost desperately, that I shall ask 
advice of the first disinterested friend I meet ! That person at least 
would be unprejudiced. Our minds are warped by this constant grind. 
We can’t decide.” 

Just then there was a knock. 

Miss Hilton started nervously. 

Come in,” said she. 

The maid entered. 

Mr. Carroll is in the library. Miss Jessica,” she said. He 
asked for Mrs. Hilton and you.” 

Jessica colored, perhaps with surprise. 


724 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


No one had heard the door-bell ring, and certainly Beauty had 
expected no visitors of the opposite sex at that early hour. 

Don’t bring him in here,” whispered Mrs. Hilton. Go and see 
him in tlie library, and make my excuses.” 

Very well. Say I will be there directly.” 

The maid vanished. 

The very friend you wanted !” said Lily, with suppressed glee. 

will advise you if you ask him.” 

Perhaps I shall,” said Jessica. She was looking in the glass, 
smoothing her black head and straightening her cc^llar in a business-like 
way. 


CHAPTER II. 

The library, as it was called, was a room about ten feet square, the 
wall-space of which was almost entirely occupied by two windows, two 
doors, and a miniature fireplace. 

The only feature of the apartment which could have suggested its 
too assuming name was a small book-case containing about fifty 
volumes on as many different subjects. As Jessica entered, George 
Carroll stood with his back to the empty grate, as though trying not 
to see its deficiency. 

Good -morning,” she said. I’m afraid it is shockingly cold here. 
I will ring for some one to make a fire.” 

Oh, don’t do that,” said the young man, in a hearty voice, as he 
shook hands with Miss Hilton. Here are the remains of some coals, 
and a bit of kindling-wood. It shall flame up gloriously in a minute, 
if you will let me take it in hand.” 

He had the tact to understand that the somebody alluded to by 
Jessica would be fully occupied at this time in the morning, without 
building fires. Jessica laughed as she granted him permission. He 
knelt down, and, with a few deft touches, in a wonderfully short space 
of time he reconstructed the materials at hand and applied a match to 
the pile. In a few moments the flame leapt up joyously. 

Ah,” said he, now we can be cosey !” and he settled himself in a 
chair near Jessica in front of the blaze. No possible act on his part 
could better have displayed the complete unconventionality of the man. 

In personal appearance he was not, at first sight, in any way re- 
markable ; not above what all writers liave conspired to call medium 
height.” He was well developed, and muscular, without any particular 
beauty of form. His head was symmetrical, wuth a broad brow. His 
eyes were very deep-set, but without the disagreeable keenness of most 
eyes of that description. They were of a dark blue-gray, clear and 
honest, and full of a latent tenderness at times. The whole face was a 
clever and above all a good and wholesome one. There were unmis- 
takable indications of health in the strong, abundant hair and moustache, 
the clean, ruddy skin, and the perfect teeth. 

As Jessica looked at him to-day, he gave her a sense of repose. 
Here, evidently, was a man free from humbug. By the time he had got 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 725 

off his knees she felt really cordial towards him, and showed it in her 
manner. 

Now/^ said she, give an account of yourself. What brings you 
to New Jersey 

I was spending the night here with friends, and waited over a few 
trains to see you,^^ said Carroll. 

‘^It is a goodimany months since I have seen you. We ought to 
have plenty to talk about.^^ 

Yes, our acquaintance has been of the most intermittent character. 
I must begin very ungallantly, to talk about myself. Have you seen 
my new paper. Books and AutJwrs 

Yes ; and it does you credit. You must be very proud of it.’^ 

^^Are you in earnest? I never know. You are one of those 
brilliant sarcastic young women whom one can never feel sure about.^^ 

What nonsense ! I think you used not to be devoid of the power 
of repartee, if I remember right.’^ 

The old story of the flint and the steel,^^ said Carroll, laughing. 

You could strike sparks from the coldest.^ ^ 

All this is not telling me about Boohs and Authors^ Are you 
making a success 

don’t know yet. We are not yet paying expenses. Editing a 
paper for the select and favored few, you know. Miss Hilton, is not 
coining gold. My friends are a little scandalized at my choice. I 
might have been a prosperous merchant instead of a poor devil of a 
journalist, but, you see, I can’t help it. I was born with a passion for 
journalism.” 

And a scorn of mercenary motives,” added Jessica, with a small 
burst of enthusiasm. I honor you for it.” 

Carroll colored ever so little. 

That is more than I deserve. One can’t help being made in a 
certain mould. These feelings are neither assumed nor cultivated.” 

Jessica hesitated a moment. She was longing to draw him into a 
discussion, and by so doing to elicit the advice which Ijily had jestingly 
bidden her seek. 

Do you think,” she said, almost irrelevantly, that women, as a 
class, are mercenary ?” 

As a class, no,” answered Carroll, readily ; but I am sorry to 
say that I know a great many individuals who are so.” 

How does it manifest itself?” ♦ 

In making calculating marriages, or in arranging them for other 
people. So many young women are doing it every day.” 

And you think prudence and convenience unlawful motives in 
marriage?” almost faltered Jessica. 

Carroll glanced at her with sudden keenness in his kind eyes. 

You surely do not ask that seriously. Miss Hilton ?” he said, 
almost sternly. 

Jessica blushed violently : she wondered how much he knew of 
her reason for asking. I have as much sentiment as anybody,” she 
said, defiantly, not wishing to acknowledge herself reproved, but 
I like to hear people’s views.” 


726 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


Well/^ said Carroll, should say, if I knew anything experi- 
mentally of such matters, that the good old-fashioned passion of love 
was the only excuse for matrimony. No man should marry unless he 
is obliged to. I think most people are happy'^Xvithout.^^ 

He looked quite gravely into the fire as he spoke. It seemed to 
Jessica that it would be possible to discuss almost any subject with 
him, he was so perfectly impersonal in all his remarks. 

He was thinking just then, What a fine woman gone to seed for 
want of training ! — beautiful and clever, and, I greatly fear, without • 
much heart.^^ 

He sighed, he scarcely knew why. 

Jessica persisted. 

Men are well enough without marriage, I can w^ell believe,’^ 
said she ; but how about poor women ? An old maid is a desolate 
being.^’ 

‘^Not half as desolate as a married woman wishing she were an 
old maid,^^ he retorted, curtly. These things can^t be forced. If 
you have a friend. Miss Hilton, w^ho is thinking of committing matri- 
mony on any basis but that which I approve, pray tell her to keep on 
thinking a long time before taking the plunge.^^ 

He looked her full in the face, and she avoided his glance. 

I don’t think I know any such,” she said ; but if I did she 
would no doubt profit by your advice. You confess to knowing so 
much about it !” 

Carroll took up his hat. 

You have really ensnared me into quite a dissertation,” he said, 
ignoring her sarcasm, ‘^but Books and AutKors is waiting for me, 
and I must get to town some time to-day. It might as well be by the 
next train.” 

He held out his hand. 

Good-by,” said Jessica. Thank you for ” she paused, then 

ended with a laugh, for making the fire.” 

Don’t forget my views,” said he ; and with a shake of the hand 
he left the room. 

Jessica saw him walking away from the house. He was certainly 
not imposing by reason of his clothes. None but an acknowledged 
gentleman of good standing could have afforded to dress as he did, 
with an utter disregard of everything but cleanliness and comfort. His 
garments had once, of ^course, 4)een new; but that was a long time ago. 
When most men were wearing collars up to their ears, Carroll wore his 
turned down. He never could be induced to don that badge of Philis- 
tinism, a frock-coat, but always wore a cut-away. Every year, when 
his sisters expostulated with him on the shabbiness of his clothes, and 
told him that the back of his favorite coat was shiny enough for an 
advertisement of Sapolio, he would laugh good-humoredly, and answer 
that he was waiting till he could go to England to buy another outfit. 

At all events, his seedy hat covered plenty of brains, and the shiny 
coat was stirred by the pulsations of a true and manly heart. 

For some reason or other, Jessica felt, after Carroll’s departure, 
that her temporary indecision had vanished. Before rejoining her 


BEAUTIFUL MRS, THORNDYKE. 


727 


mother and sister, she went to her own room and wrote to Thorndyke, 
briefly but kindly, telling him that what he asked of her she could 
never grant. 


CHAPTER III. 

Several weeks passed uneventfully, at least for Jessica. Nature, 
however, was full of events. The snow-patches were melting away, 
and the willows were growing golden at the top. The birds were 
coming back from the South. Here and there the earliest of the 
spring flowers peeped out, and the sky was blue and wind-swept. 

Jessica grew weary of the mute reproach on her mother’s face, and 
the spoken repinings which she too often expressed. The conscious- 
ness that she had done her duty was not enough for Jessica’s unchast- 
ened nature. There were times when she almost repented of what 
seemed over-scrupulousness. 

Of George Carroll she heard nothing. She saw Books and Author's, 
for that brilliant little weekly came to her regularly, a silent token that 
she was not forgotten. Here and there in its pages she had no difficulty 
in recognizing Carroll’s hand, and, as far as she was capable of judg- 
ing, she thought that he had not mistaken his vocation. 

Life was becoming for her more and more difficult. Among the 
many longings natural to a girl of her years, some as vague and unde- 
fined as the moon looks in the daytime, was a very distinct aspiration, 
— more distinct, perhaps, than creditable. She wanted money. She 
had not wanted it enough, however, to relinquish any of her ideals in 
order to obtain it, and that fact robbed the desire of its sordidness. 

It is hard for beauty to robe itself in second-rate garments, to sus- 
tain life with second-rate dishes, and take its pleasure in a humdrum, 
poverty-stricken manner. 

Lily stitched away on her curtains, and had the glad consciousness 
that she was contributing to the meagre family exchequer. But poor 
Jessica, a lily of the field, born useless, and too spoiled to conquer her 
native indolence, had more time to fret over her unfortunate lot. 

But the turning-point in her destiny was near. She was as ig- 
norant of this as everybody else is on the eve of a tremendous crisis. 
Fate came to her in the shape of an expedition to town one day in the 
last part of April. It promised at the outset to be a commonplace, 
every-day affair, relieved only by the rather rare interest of buying a 
few new trifles such as women love. What it proved to be in reality 
we shall see. 

When Jessica reached New York she left the boat with a crowd of 
other passengers. As she stood waiting to take the car in front of the 
ferry-house, a carriage suddenly drew up near her and a lady alighted. 
A glance told her that it was Mr. Thorndyke’s sister, Mrs. Langford ; 
but her face was so pale and troubled that for a moment Jessica almost 
doubted her identity. 

Mrs. Langford paused to give her coachman an order, and caught 
sight of Jessica. 

The very person I want !” she said, hastily coming forward and 


728 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


taking her hand. I was on my way to see you. How fortunate that 
we should meet 

Jessica looked perplexed. Mrs. Langford was not by any means an 
intimate friend of hers ; in fact, she scarcely knew her; and they had 
not met for a long time. 

The elder lady gave her no opportunity for answering ; for which 
slie was rather glad, as she had no reply ready. 

You must come with me at once,^^ she continued, with a ring of 
imperativeness in her usually gentle voice. It is a matter of life and 
death,^^ she added, tremulously. 

They were by this time blocking the way and attracting consider- 
able attention. The car had gone, and Jessica had nothing to do but 
obey Mrs. Langford and enter the carriage, which still waited. 

In less than a minute they were rattling away over the stones. 

Of course you think this very strange. Miss Hilton,^^ said Mrs. 
Langford, as wxll as she could, considering the bouncing and knocking 
about she was getting from the carriage as it hurried over the execrable 
pavement. Tlie fact is that poor Theodore is dangerously ill, — we 
fear fatally so, — and he desires above all things to see you. So I started 
myself to fetch you, fearing that if I sent a note by a servant you would 
not realize the urgency of it.^^ 

Jessica colored and looked confused. Does he really want me, 
Mrs. Langford? Would it be wise for a comparative stranger — that 
is, one outside of his own family — to disturb him just now she 
asked, doubtfully. 

Oh, yes, yes ; he must see you,^^ her companion answered, eagerly. 

The doctor fears the worst results, and you must not refuse. I^m 
afraid this is a last request. He will take no denial.^^ 

After a moment’s pause, Jessica said, ^‘Tell me what is the matter 
with your brother.” 

He was taken with a violent chill the day before yesterday, and 
the doctor was sent for at once. He has double pneumonia, — that is, 
in both lungs, you know, — and it is almost impossible that he should 
recover.” 

Oh, we must hope for the best,” said Jessica, feeling as she spoke 
what a miserable platitude she was uttering. Appropriate words on 
an occasion like this are not easy to find. 

No more was said during the long drive. After a while they 
reached their destination, — a fine corner house on Madison Avenue, 
with a bow- window on the side-street. 

The door was opened almost immediately, and they entered. 

Now sit down here, and I will go up to see how Theodore is,” 
said Mrs. Langford, leaving Jessica in the drawing-room and hastening 
up-stairs. 

Jessica felt bewildered. Among all her plans for spending a day 
in New York she had certainly never anticipated this. 

Now that poor Thorndyke was ill, — probably dying, — she realized 
how fond she had been of him all these years. It is an oft-repeated 
truth that death hallows the meanest human being, and now in its 
grim shadow every act of Theodore’s, no matter how trivial, seemed to 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


729 


assume a new and painful importance in Jessica^s memory. Not one 
kind or chivalrous deed was forgotten. He was a man endowed with 
the rare gift of constancy, and as he had loved her, so she knew he 
would continue to do as long as life should endure. 

Jessica looked about the large room, and thought how it might have 
been hers. It looked like what it was, — a bachelor’s drawing-room, 
somewhat stiff, and lacking in those graceful touches which betray the 
presence of a woman. But it had fine capabilities. She found herself 
mechanically considering how a dado and frieze would tone down the 
paper, how a portiere between the rooms would soften the effect, how 
a lamp here and there, and a small tea-table 

The voice of Mrs. Langford roused her from her fit of abstraction, 
and she started almost guiltily as she remembered why she had come. 

Theodore would like to see you at once. Miss Hilton,” said Mrs. 
Langford. She was very tremulous and tearful, and had evidently heard 
no good news of her brother. 

Jessica followed her silently up-stairs. At the door of Thorndyke’s 
room they paused for a moment ; then Mrs. Langford noiselessly turned 
the knob, and they entered. 

Theodore Thorndyke lay propped up by pillows, on a bed so large 
and heavily carved that his slight figure seemed almost lost. 

He was dying. Jessica saw that at a glance, unused as she was to 
seeing the approach of death. He was breathing painfully, and his 
face was pinched and white, except for a scarlet spot on each cheek. 

He looked at Jessica and smiled, — such a sad, sad smile to see. 

He wants to talk to you,” said Mrs. Langford. Take that chair 
by the bed.” 

Jessica did as she was bidden, and an embarrassing silence ensued. 

Thorndyke looked imploringly at his sister, with an expression 
which seemed to signify that he wished to see Miss Hilton alone. Mrs. 
Langford beckoned to the doctor, who w^as standing near the bed, and 
together they went into the adjoining room. 

“ Miss Hilton,” said Thorndyke, in a hoarse, low voice, ‘‘ I have 
wanted so much to see you. I thought you would come if you knew 
how ill I was. There is something I must ask you, and yet I hardly 
dare to, for fear you should refuse.” 

It was pitiful to hear his tones, so weak and altered. The tears 
sprang to Jessica’s eyes. 

I am so distressed,” she said, to see you like this ! I could not 
refuse you anything.” 

Ah !” he said, with a long-drawn breath of content. He closed 
his eyes, and lay for a moment or two as if he were unconscious. Pres- 
ently he seemed to rouse himself, and said, feebly, ^^I want you to 
have my name. You did not love me. Never mind ; I loved you. 
That is enough. Will you marry me — now ? I cannot last long. 

Jessica looked at him aghast. An inarticulate cry broke from her 
lips. This sound attracted Mrs. Langford, who came in at once, fearing 
that her brother was worse. 

Has he told you ?” she asked, bending over the sick man, but 
looking at Jessica. 


730 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


The girl nodded in a bewildered way. 

Will you do it asked Mrs. Langford. 

^^How can faltered Jessica. ^^It is so sudden. I must have 
time to think 

Mrs. Langford raised her hand as if to interrupt her. 

Look at him/^ she whispered. He has no time to give. He is 
dying 

Indeed, the effort had been too much for Theodore. He had sunk 
into a sort of stupor. Jessica sprang up, awe-stricken. 

Come away,^^ she said, under her breath. I cannot talk here.” 
And she went towards the door between the two rooms. 

The nurse and doctor hurried to their patient, and Miss Hilton and 
Mrs. Langford were left alone. 

The elder woman took the hand of the younger. 

I implore you !” she almost sobbed. It is all he asks, — so little, 
— so little, — and I, who love him, cannot win him this last happiness ! 
Oh, Miss Hilton, why will you refuse?” 

I will not refuse,” she said, gently. Dear Mrs. Langford, don^t 
be so distressed : indeed I will do it if you wish.” 

As she spoke, a tall man, in clerical dress, entered by the door which 
led into the corridor. 

Mrs. Langford hurried to meet him. 

How is he ?” he asked, taking her hand. 

He is dying !” she said, sadly. But she has consented. You 
understand. — This is Miss Hilton, Dr. Farnham.” 

Jessica looked at the clergyman with large, scared eyes. She seemed 
moving in a strange dream. He grasped her hand warmly. 

That is right,” he said, cheerfully ; that is right. Poor fellow ! 
I know how much he desires it.” 

We must not delay,” said Mrs. Langford, with returning calmness. 

The time is too precious to waste.” 

^^Is not Mrs. Westalow coming?” asked Dr. Farnham. 

She is away, but we are expecting her every minute.” 

Then the physician came in, saying that if anything was to be done 
it must be done quickly. 

The next few moments were more unreal to Jessica than anything 
else had been. She only knew that, rightly or wrongly, she had con- 
sented, and that she was being made the wife of Theodore Thorndyke. 
When the last irrevocable words had been said, she stood like a stonej not 
knowing what to do next, and scarcely caring what was expected of her. 

The poor bridegroom tried to put out his arm and draw her towards 
him, but his strength was insufficient. Mechanically she bent over him, 
and, as she realized everything, a sudden gush of feeling overmastered 
him : she kissed his forehead amidst a shower of tears. For one moment 
he looked at her, his face lighted up by love and gratitude. 

My wife !” he said, softly. She is worthy of it all.” 

Then his eyes closed, and Mrs. Langford beckoned Jessica from the 
room. A few moments after, he was visited by his lawyer, and roused 
himself once more to dictate his parting wishes to him. But he sank 
very rapidly after that. 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


731 


He had made a brave struggle for life, and had not won. 

He was living still at sunset, but his heart was just beating, and 
that was all. 

Jessica stayed on with Mrs. Langford. Her new sister was more 
than kind. In the midst of all her trouble, — for it was genuine trouble, 
and she loved her brother truly, — she remembered Mrs. Hilton’s anxiety 
on Jessica’s behalf, and sent a telegram which simply stated that she was 
spending the night with friends, and would not return until the follow- 
ing day. 

The evening passed, and still the doctor stayed, and there was no 
change in the patient. Mrs. Langford persuaded Jessica to go to bed, 
and promised to call her should she be needed. 

Jessica required rest and time for reflection. The events of the day 
had tried her sorely, and she wanted to be alone. In the midst of her 
bewildered musings she fell asleep. It seemed but a few minutes later 
when she was roused by the opening of the door. She sat up, wide 
awake in a moment. In the gray dawn she saw the white, tear-stained 
face of Anna Langford. 

^^Do you want me?” Jessica said, pushing her long hair olF her 
face. Is he worse ?” 

It is over. He is gone,” said the other, with the calm weariness 
of grief and long watching. 

And I not with him !” cried Jessica. How could I sleep so 
long ?” 

Don’t reproach yourself,” said Mrs. Langford, with strange com- 
posure. He died like a little child, without a struggle. He is at rest ; 
and, oh ! I wish that we were with him !” 

And so Jessica Thorndyke was a widow. 


CHAPTER IV. 

It was decided that she should return home in an early train. 
Mrs. Langford promised that her maid should procure her the requisite 
mourning when she ordered that for the rest of the family. 

At the mention of mourning, Jessica began to consider what she 
had done. As far as she knew, the act of marrying a dying man 
could not exert much influence over her future. In her supreme ig- 
norance of the state of the case, she merely thought that she had been 
gratifying a wish on the part of Thorndyke to show his affection for 
her to the very last. It appeared to her that she had neither gained nor 
lost anything whatever by her acquiescence. 

Thus she was parting from Mrs. Langford, when the latter said, — 
You will be here for the funeral, and, of course, remain for the 
reading of the will ?” 

^^For the funeral, of course,” Jessica assented; but why for the 
other ? That is a family matter, surely. I should feel out of place.” 

Mrs. Langford gazed at her, amazed. 

Is it possible that he did not tell you?” she cried. 


732 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


Tell me — what asked Jessica, quietly. 

That everything is yours/^ said Anna. 

She turned pale. What do you mean?^^ she asked. 

My dear child/^ said her sister-in-law, my dear, innocent child ! 
You did not know?^^ 

How should I said the girl, the color rushing back into her 
face. You stun me ! I donT know what to say.^^ 

You do not realize it,’^ said the other, kindly. He loved you 
with rare unselfishness, and wanted to make you happy. He respected 
your honesty and truth, and he has given you everything. This is 
your house. His fortune is yours.^^ 

Jessica hid her face in her hands, — the beautiful, wonderful face 
which had kindled such love in the heart of him who was gone. 

Oh,^^ she said, tremblingly, 1 am sorry ! I am sorry 

Anna Langford looked at her in bewilderment. 

<< Yery few women would say thaV^ she said. Then she put her 
arms about her new sister’s neck, and kissed her. 

You are what he thought you,” she said, and I shall love you, 

too.” 

Jessica went away, her soul tossed by various emotions. She had 
entered the house, on the day before, little better than a beggar ; she 
left it one of the richest women in America. 

She had not been gone an hour before there ^vas a loud ringing at 
the bell, and Mrs. Langford heard in the hall the unsubdued accents of 
her sister, Augusta Westalow. The sisters met in the library, where 
in the dim light the new Mrs. Thorndyke had left Anna sitting. 

At last!” almost panted Mrs. Westalow, as she hurried in. 
thought that I should never get here.” 

Her advent seemed to fill the room with an atmosphere of haste 
and unrest. She was a woman of middle size, with keen glancing eyes, 
and a nervous manner, — the exact opposite to her sister, who was calm, 
gentle, and full of repose. 

Mrs. Langford did not offer to kiss her. She seemed to brace her- 
self for an unpleasant interview. People who encountered Mrs. West- 
alow when she was not pleased had need to take, as the French say, 
their courage in both hands.” 

“The telegram only reached me yesterday,” she continued. “It 
was very sudden, was it not?” 

“Very,” said Mrs. Langford, almost coldly. She had loved her 
brother, but Augusta cared very little for any one. 

“ Poor fellow !” said she, with some perfunctoriness, and removing 
her gloves and veil as she spoke. “ Have you been home at all ?” 

“ No,” said Anna. “ I am not going until after the funeral. Alfred 
is taking care of the children, but he will come on the day after to- 
morrow and take me back with him. 

“Have you seen Mr. Banks?” 

Banks had been Thorndyke’s lawyer. 

“ Not since yesterday. That reminds me that it is my duty to 
prepare you for what is coming. Theodore was married.” 

“ Good heavens, Anna !” cried Augusta, half rising from her chair, 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


733 


then sinking back violently. Some disgraceful clandestine connection, 
I suppose 

Neither disgraceful nor clandestine/^ said Mrs. Langford, reso- 
lutely. I was present at his marriage.’^ 

And who, in heaveifs name,^^ cried Mrs. Westalow, whose tone 
and aspect showed that heaven was extremely far from her thoughts 
just then, — who was the woman?’’ 

Jessica Hilton,” answered her sister. 

That red-and- white girl, with the poverty-stricken relations, who 
lives in New Jersey?” demanded Augusta. Impossible ! Poor 
Theodore must have been delirious ! Why, the law should have inter- 
fered ! And where were your senses, you madwoman ?” 

She got up and began to pace the room. 

Mrs. Langford was perfectly composed. Her grief was so deep 
and her faith in Jessica was so strong that even the vituperations of her 
sister did not rufle her serenity. 

I was prepared for all this from you,” she said. I shall never 
discuss the matter with you again, but I am willing to make a plain 
statement once for all. Theodore was mad about this girl for years, as 
you know. She refused to marry him, though she is very poor and he 
was very rich. At the outset of his illness he conceived the plan of 
marrying her and leaving her all his property. I brought her here 
when I saw that he would die, and die most unhappy if she did not 
come to him. Dr. Farnham married them, and Theodore died not 
long after. She was as disinterested as a child. She never knew till 
this morning that her condition was in any way altered by what she 
had done. Theodore was as sane as you are when he made his will. 
She would have had the money anyway, even had she refused to marry 
him. That is the whole story ; but I want to add that Jessica is a 
lady and a high-minded woman. I loved Theodore more than I did 
his money, and I mean to love his widow. I know well how you will 
behave about all this. You will do your best to make her miserable; 
but I mean to stand by her, for Theodore’s sake and her own.” 

Mrs. Langford’s utterance had become more agitated towards the 
end. She had never made so long a speech in her life. Probably 
Mrs. Westalow had never before listened in silence to such a long one. 
Her patience was at an end. 

And how about Paul Lorrimer ? He has come home from Ber- 
lin. He will be here to-morrow. Will he sit down tamely and let 
this adventuress despoil us all ?” she said, pausing in her wild-beast 
W’alk up and down the room. 

Paul is a man of the world, and will do what is best for himself. 
But, after all, a cousin is nothing to a man, compared to his wife.” 

Mrs. Langford sighed wearily, and put her hand to her head. 
Augusta always gave her a pain there. 


CHAPTER V. 

American newspaper reporters are never idle. When they are 
not busy ascertaining the details of any subject, they are absorbed in 
Yol. XLI.- 47 


734 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


manufacturing them. Therefore the bedside marriage of a dying man 
to a beautiful woman did not long remain unknown to them. The 
Telephone in particular excelled in reproducing the scene with embellish- 
ment^ and the same page which described a thrilling slugging-match/^ 
in which Bostoif s greatest pugilist had come off the victor, bore a large 
blotch of ink purporting to be a perfect likeness of Beautiful Mrs. 
Thorndyke.^^ 

The editor whose business it was to furnish thrilling head-lines 
found himself forced to partake of several additional cocktails, which 
actually stimulated his imagination to such an extent that the next 
issue of the New York Telephone fairly bristled with a blood-curdling 
preface to the matter narrated below. 

A New Jersey Eosebud Grafted on to a Dying Branch of the 
Thorndyke Genealogical Tree,’^ was about the mildest outcome of the 
cocktairs genial influence. 

The widow herself, having electrified her family, was meditating 
quietly on her w^onderful good fortune, — quietly, but for the fussy 
attentions and unconcealed delight of Mrs. Hilton and the ill-timed 
flippancies of Lily. 

These two were infinitely more stirred by the new^s of what had 
befallen them than the heroine of the affair. Jessica bore her honors 
meekly. Every carriage which drove past the red-and-yellow Queen 
Anne villa went a little slower, as the occupants craned their necks 
and strained their eyes to catch a glimpse of the new widow. 

Mrs. Hilton tried to be discreet, but failed. She was weakly 
human, and the bright anticipations of luxury and happiness, after the 
privations of the past, overcame the very slight self-control she had 
formerly possessed. When she viewed her meagre store-room, she 
laughed with joy at the thought of groceries which would never give 
out,^^ butter for a dollar a pound, and everything else to correspond. 

Lily, who adored her sister, drew rosy pictures of the future. She 
failed to appreciate the finer fibre of the elder girl, who felt subdued 
and sad in the midst of her elation. 

Once Jessica checked her in her thoughtless talk, saying, It would 
be foolish to pretend that I loved him, but his death has made me feel 
very solemn, and we must behave decently, even among ourselves. I 
am very, very thankful to him.’’ 

For dying ?” said Lily. . . 

It was strange thafc at such a time the person uppermost in Jessica’s 
thoughts w^as George Carroll. What he would say, wdiat he would 
think, whether he would misunderstand and blame her, or compre- 
hend it all and exonerate her, — these were the questions which filled 
her mind. 

Meanwhile, he was working in his little office, high up, within 
sight of the East Eiver, bitterly, sadly reading her name between the 
lines of manuscripts and proof-sheets, and saying over and over to 
himself, What a fine woman to have been so spoiled !” . . . 

The day of the funeral dawned fair and cloudless, such a day as 
sends a thrill through all one’s veins and causes the most confirmed 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


736 \ 


cynic to reconsider his decision that life is not worth living. It was 
just the day for a wedding ; it was pitiful to think of burying any one 
with such sunlight bathing the world, with such a sweet breath of 
spring in the air. 

Jessica, accompanied by her mother and sister, arrived at the 
Thorndyke house in Madison Avenue. When she threw back her 
long veil, one could see that she looked more beautiful than ever in her 
weeds. Mrs. Langford had evidently been watching for her, for she 
met her in the hall. After a silent embrace and an irrepressible gush of 
tears, Anna whispered, You will want to see him once more before 
we leave the house,^^ and she drew her towards the closed door of a 
small reception-room. 

Mrs. Thorndyke trembled a little, but nerved herself to enter. The 
door closed behind her. She was alone with the dead. 

She was pitifully conscious that she could not work herself up to 
the proper pitch of feeling. There is nothing more galling to one’s 
self-esteem than to make demands on a sentiment which is proper to 
a certain occasion, and to find that one has, so to speak, overdrawn 
one’s account. 

Jessica’s ideal widow would have prostrated herself on the coffin, 
calling upon the dead with many terms of endearment, and shedding 
very bitter tears. If she could have persuaded herself that she was 
sorry and bereaved, even this self-deception would have been most 
mollifying to her feelings. What she did, in reality, was this : she 
walked over to the casket and forced herself to look on the dead face. 
There was nothing terrible about it, after all. There was an expression 
of perfect peace on the quiet features. Death had done for Thorndyke 
more than life could have done : it had made the memory of the man 
in some sense dear to the woman he loved. She would never forget him. 

Jessica laid on the coffin a bunch of lilies-of-the-valley which she 
had brought with her. 

Poor Theodore !” she whispered. Pausing for only a moment, she 
turned and left the room. She was very pale, and her limbs were shaking, 
On the threshold she almost stumbled against a man. He was dark, 
good-looking, and dressed in mourning. Mrs. Langford was talking 
with him. 

^^This is olir cousin, Paul Lorrimer,” she said. ^^Paul, this is 
Theodore’s widow.” 

Jessica bent her head slightly in acknowledgment, and, passing 
swiftly by them, entered the room beyond. But Paul Lorrimer had 
seen her, and that instant changed the possible current of events, direct- 
ing them into a new channel. 

In the next room she found Mrs. Westalow, who did not vouchsafe 
any recognition of her. 

Then came the departure of the mourners, and the funeral, which 
was very much like other funerals, save that the church was particularly 
full of people, most of them idle, curious, and gossip-loving. 

When the will was read, the bereaved relatives of the deceased found 
that, with the exception of a hundred thousand dollars to each sister and 
to Paul Lorrimer, all Theodore Thorndyke’s property, real and personal, 


736 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


was bequeathed unconditionally to his Avidow. Mr. Banks had been 
the last person to confer with the dead man, and he had assured Mrs. 
Westalow, in an interview previous to the reading of the will, that it 
was perfectly valid and could not be broken. 

Jessica found herself suddenly possessed of a house in town, a 
country-seat on the Hudson River, and so much money that the mere 
mention of the sum took her breath away. 

As soon as it was possible, she rejoined her mother and sister and 
returned to New Jersey. 

5k******* 

That evening Mrs. Westalow sat in her own drawing-room in earnest 
conclave with her cousin. Paul Lorrimer was a man of thirty-five or 
thirty-six years of age, rather tall, slightly built, and of decidedly dis- 
tinguished appearance. His face was chiefly remarkable for an ex- 
pression of great firmness. He was not a man to be trifled with, 
though he might find it far from difficult to trifle with other people. 
He looked more frank and honest than he really was. His hair was 
jet-black, parted near the middle on a very low forehead ; his eyes 
were deep-set, and undeniably handsome, — such a pair of optics as 
contradict the truth of Emerson’s ill-considered statement that eyes 
cannot lie.” 

He had for years led the life of a respectable tramp, and had never 
earned more than enough to live upon with frugality. He could enjoy 
life on next-to-nothing a day, or spend royally with equal satisfaction 
if he had the wherewithal. Somehow or other he had been made a 
Secretary of Legation in Berlin, and had since his appointment become 
a more useful and creditable member of society. 

This evening he sat with Mrs. Westalow over a wood fire which 
was rendered pleasant by the rawness of the April night air. He was 
regarding his kinswoman with a steady directness of gaze Avhich would 
have been unsettling to some women. Augusta bore it without flinch- 
ing. There was nothing about Paul which seemed to her new or 
striking. They had been brought up together. 

a If 

you do not contest this infamous will,” she was saying, vehe- 
mently, ‘^you are not the man I have always thought you. What 
right had Theodore to leave everything to this adventuress ?” 

^Hs not that rather a hard name to give a beautiful young lady?” 
asked Paul, in a low and singularly pleasant voice. 

I approve of calling a spade a spade,” retorted Augusta, vigorously. 

I remember that you always talked fine nervous English,” said 
Paul, with a slight smile. 

Then, as to her beauty,” pursued Mrs. Westalow, to me she 
always looks made up. It is such bad style to have a red-aud-white 
skin and black eyebrows, like a head in a barber’s wdndow.” 

Oh, you mustn’t blame the poor girl if Nature blacked her brows 
and rouged her cheeks. She can’t help being a beauty,” said Lorrimer, 
with quiet enjoyment of his cousin’s temper. 

Oh, are you going to become one of her champions? Anna has 
been making a fool of herself already ; but we must make allowance 
for her, for her brain is half turned with a religious mania.” 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


737 


You mean that I haven’t that excuse?” said Paul, laughing out- 
right. Well, — do you know ? — one can bear a good deal of religion 
in one’s friends. It has a ^ood effect on Anna. Why don’t you 
try it?” 

Don’t be so satirical, Paul. I see you haven’t changed. Your 
long residence abroad has not improved you.” 

‘^No? I can’t say the same for Westalow. I saw him in Paris, 
and he looked very happy.” 

Augusta flushed scarlet. 

‘‘ What was he doing?” she asked. 

Consoling himself for your unkindness, I think,” said her cousin, 
smiling rather maliciously. 

Don’t let us talk of hini !” exclaimed Augusta. He is too dis- 
graceful. Tell me about yourself. What brought you home just 
now ?” 

I hardly know. A general feeling of unrest which comes upon 
me periodically. I am going back before autumn, as I have only a 
few months’ leave.” 

Seriously, Paul, have you no intention of contesting this outrageous 
will ?” 

Seriously, Augusta, I have not.” 

May I ask why ?” 

You may. First, because litigation costs money, — which I haven’t 
got. Second, because the will can’t be picked to pieces, and there is no 
use trying. Banks says so. It would only create a scandal.” 

He paused, but as if he had not quite finished. 

Well,” said Mrs. Westalow, trying to keep down her scorn, 
third ?” 

‘‘ Oh, there is no third reason to speak of. I simply don’t want to. 
That’s all.” 

He sat regarding her imperturbably. She flamed out at him. 

Oh, you fool !” she cried. You are won over by that doll-faced 
woman.” 

I have quite a passion for dolls,” he said. Don’t you remember 
how I used to borrow yours when we were children ?” 

^^Oh, Paul, don’t be insane!” she persisted. ^^Help me in this 
matter. I stand quite alone. Aren’t you angry or disappointed at all ?” 

Disappointed I am, of course, but not angry. Theodore’s money 
was his own. I can’t criticise his taste. He left it to somebody whom 
he loved more than he did you or me. Is that astonishing?” 

No, not so astonishing as this beautiful Christian spirit which you 
have suddenly developed. There is something back of all this, which 
I shall find out in time. You can’t hide it from me.” 

My dear cousin, I should no more think of hiding anything from 
you successfully than I should think of commanding the sun to stand 
still and expecting him to do it.” 

He rose as he spoke, and held out his hand. 

Good-night,” he said. 

Mrs. Westalow ignored his hand. 

Good-night,” she responded, briefly. 


738 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


CHAPTER VI. 

It happened that George Carroll went once more to New Jersey to 
visit some friends, and before he took the train for town on the follow- 
ing day he walked down the street where the Hiltons lived. This he 
did against his better judgment, for he said resolutely to himself that 
he desired no further acquaintance with Jessica Thorndyke. But it is 
wonderful how while our will is deciding to go one w^ay our feet, guided 
by our inclination, carry us another. Every one has experienced these 
phenomena for himself, and it is unnecessary to enlarge on the subject. 

It was a most delicious day in the latter part of April. Tlie spring 
had been backward, as our springs always are, but the flowers were 
beginning to bloom and shed their fragrance abroad. As Carroll ap- 
proached the Hiltons^ gate he experienced a curious feeling of satis- 
faction or the reverse, he could not tell which, for leaning with her arms 
crossed on the top of it, and with her head laid upon them, was Jessica. 
Her face was averted, and she did not see him. The sun glinted on 
her dead-black hair and lighted it into a dull rich lustre. Her gown 
was severely simple, but followed the superb lines of her figure with 
accuracy. 

George looked a moment without speaking. In that moment 
Beauty raised her head. She was as beautiful as ever, her skin as fair 
and wonderful, her color deeper and more peach- 1 ike. ^ If she had been 
grieving, thought George, her sorrow had left no trace. She was so 
glad to see him again that she smiled brightly ; then, remembering her 
recent widowhood, she summoned an expression of gravity. 

I am very glad to see you, Mr. Carroll,’^ she said, holding out 
her hand to him and opening the gate. Woift you come in?^^ 

Carroll took the hand for a moment in one of his own, and took 
off his hat with the other. 

I am on my way to the train,’^ he said, doubtfully. It goes in 
ten minutes.^^ 

There are trains at all hours,’’ said Jessica, still holding open the 

gate. 

And Carroll, the strong-minded, the invulnerable, felt his resolu- 
tions melting into thin air. 

I will come in for a minute or two, if I may,” he said. ‘‘ Isn’t 
this rather a public place for leaning on gates ?” 

^^I was trying to imagine that I was in the real country,” said 
Jessica, and forgot that everybody in the street could see me. Thank 
goodness, we soon shall be in the real country. We move next week.” 

As they talked, they walked up the little path to the house. 

And what do you call the real country ? Where are you going ?” 
asked Carroll, as they sat down on the piazza in the sunshine. 

To Acacia Point, on the Hudson, about twenty miles from town,” 
answered Mrs. Thorndyke. She colored a little. She was desperately 
anxious to know Carroll’s opinion of her, and yet feared to hear it, 
too. 

^^Ah,” he said, dryly, ^^your new place. You have become a 


BEAUTIFUL MRS, THORNDYKE. 739 

landed proprietor since I saw you some time ago. How do you like 

itr 

Not very much, so far,’^ she answered, coldly, for his tone hurt 

her. 

You have quite been keeping the daily papers going lately, Mrs. 
Thorndyke,^^ he pursued, uttering her name with evident effort. 

She made a slight gesture of annoyance. 

^^How is BooJ^ and Authors? I have not read it for a week or 
two,^^ she said, changing the subject; then, with a sudden impulse, 
characteristic of the woman, she said, What are people saying about 
me, Mr. Carroll 

She turned towards him, and flashed her great gray eyes full on 
his face. Some sudden emotion on his part made him so vexed with 
himself that he answered sharply. 

As you are not an author, Mrs. Thorndyke, it is not my business 
to know,^^ he said. 

She shrank back, sorely wounded. 

I made a mistake,^^ she said, with an uncontrollable quivering of 
the lips. I forgot that our slight acquaintance did not warrant my 
question.^^ 

He flushed crimson. 

^^Now I have offended you,^^ he cried. I am the rudest brute in 
the world ; but I have more heart than manners. I ought to be very 
happy to be asked anything by you.^^ 

Then why,^^ she demanded, her hurt feeling hardening into dis- 
pleasure, why do you speak to me so ? I know very well what you 
think of me.^^ 

What?^^ he asked, eagerly. ‘‘J. wish you could tell me; for — I 
doift know myself 

^^You think me the sort of woman you were speaking of last 
time I saw you. You misunderstand me utterly. However,^^ she con- 
cluded, with a desperate effort at curbing her petulance, what earthly 
difference does it make? You are only one of a large body of people 
who will always impute to me wrong motives.^^ 

I want, above all things, a serious conversation with you. When 
may I have it asked Carroll, gravely. 

‘‘ That is impossible to prophesy,’^ said Mrs. Thorndyke, stiffly. 

You are going up the river, you say,^^ he persisted. May I go 
there to see you 

If you come I certainly cannot refuse to see you,^^ she answered. 

Good ! A little encouragement goes a long way with me,^^ he 
said. I will come. In the mean time. Books and Authors waits for 
me in town.^^ 

He rose, and stood looking down at her. 

^^You will forgive me, then, won^t you?^^ he asked. ^^I shall 
make an able defence.’’ 

I will accept your apology w^hen you make it,” she said. 

Without offering her his hand, he turned and walked off down the 
gravel path, between the beds where the spring flowers were coming up. 
Outside the gate he paused and waved his hat, then strode out of sight. 


740 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


He left Jessica plunged in an unaccountable bitterness of spirit. 
Somehow, she had longed to open her heart to George Carroll, and he 
had repulsed her. She had not been used to such treatment from the 
men whom she knew, and his behavior, while it wounded her sensitive 
nature, thrilled her with the charm of something unaccustomed. She 
longed almost passionately for his approbation, and she felt that he 
had not accorded it to her. 

As for Carroll, he went away furious with his own stupidity, as he 
called it. He began to think that he was misjudging Jessica, and that 
she might have something plausible to say on her side of the question. 
Many a woman had enjoyed his good graces in a mild, platonic way ; 
he had a friendly regard and even admiration for a great many girls, 
but none of them stimulated his pulse or made him lose his head, and 
he had said to himself that the woman who should have this dangerous 
but delicious influence over him would be Mrs. George Carroll if he 
could make her so. Meanwhile, he shunned the thought of matrimony. 


CHAPTER VII. 

I WILL be decorous, I will be jDroper, but I must enjoy the good 
fortune which Providence has sent rne,^^ said Mrs. Thorndyke. 

She was sitting on the veranda at Acacia Point, in the grateful 
shade of the red-and-white-striped awnings. 

Lily and Mrs. Hilton were engaged in their usual occupation of 
listening to the family oracle. 

‘‘ What new form will your enjoyment take?’^ asked Lily. ^^The 
place is in good order, you have got the horses you wanted, the family 
diamonds have been handed over to you. What more do you want 

Ah, those diamonds ! That was a bold stroke ; but they are 
going to propitiate the enemy. 

Jessica smiled complacently down at her own shapely hands, which 
were ringless, save for one plain gold band. 

How asked Lily, with interest. 

Diamonds have conciliating qualities second only to money. I 
am going to send the biggest pin in the box to — Augusta Westalow 

Beauty, you are very deep.^^ 

You are very shallow if you don’t see that the poor woman de- 
serves something for having left me in peace.” 

That I can’t understand,” said Mrs. Hilton, unless some influ- 
ence has been brought to bear.” 

It has. Paul Lorrimer, now my first-cousin by marriage, has 
been persuading her to leave me in the enjoyment of my ill-gotten 
gains. And now he writes to me asking if he may come to make my 
acquaintance ; and I must say that he writes a most fascinating hand. 
Look here.” 

Jessica drew a letter from her pocket and showed the envelope to 
Lily. It was addressed in a very even, angular hand, remarkably clear 
and legible, and rather feminine in its delicacy. 

Listen to the note,” said Jessica, and read as follows : 


BEAUTIFUL MR^I. THORNDYKE. 


741 


My dear Mrs. Thorndyke, — 

You must excuse my boldness in writing to you. My only claim 
on your attention is the fact that poor Theodore and I grew up together, 
and that we were deeply attached to each other. As you see, therefore, 
I am naturally very anxious to make the acquaintance of one who was 
so dear to my dead cousin. Will you consider it an obtrusive imperti- 
nence if I ask permission to call upon you at Acacia Point ? I knew 
the old place very well in my boyhood, and should enjoy seeing it 
again. 

Yours faithfully, 

‘‘Paue Lorrimer.^^ 

There, what do you think of that ? Isn’t he kind, considering 
that the ‘ old place’ ought to be his ?” asked Jessica. 

So that is how you are going to enjoy yourself, by having Mr. 
Lorrimer up to stay ?” asked Lily. 

What else can I do? Do you suppose all that love for Theodore 
was evolved from his inner consciousness to do duty on this melanchgly 
occasion ?” 

I dare say,” said Mrs. Hilton. Men are so false.” 

I thought it was women who had that reputation, mamma. Well, 
there can be no harm in asking one’s own cousin up to one’s own 
place.” 

It will have a giddy look,” said Lily, especially if he should 
cliance to be young and good-looking.” 

He is both,” said Jessica, and I shall go at once and write to 
ask him to spend Sunday here.” . . . 

By this time the family had established themselves at Acacia Point 
and felt thoroughly at home. Mrs. Hilton took entire charge of the 
household, and, now that there were sufficient means at her command, 
her talent for housekeeping came out in its proper light. 

The whole place was charming : not large, but extremely fortunate 
in its situation. The point of land on which the house was built 
jutted out beyond the railroad, which ran through a cutting behind it, 
spanned by a bridge which led directly to the place. 

In the distance this thickly-wooded bit of the shore lay on the 
water like a piece of rich green moss flung out on the river. The 
lawn sloped down to the water, and at one place there was a huge 
boulder on which the airiest of summer-houses was built, a slight 
bridge connecting it with the mainland. The house itself was of 
granite, with a great many gables and bow-windows and wide verandas. 
It was covered with wistaria, which in May draped it beautifully with 
pendent grape-like clusters of lilac blossoms. On one side of the house 
was an open space of smooth fresh turf, where Mrs. Thorndyke had 
ordered two tennis-courts marked out, and all around this space grew 
dark copper beeches, brilliant pinkish-purple Judas-trees, and the stately 
acacias which had suggested the name of the point. 

Well out of sight behind here were the stable, boat-houses, and a 
good deal of glass for raising grapes and nectarines. 

It was altogether a place which no one would be sorry to own, and 


742 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


on the Saturday morning when Paul Lorrimer arrived, after an absence 
of many years, it looked and smelt like Paradise. He had been met 
at the station by a low well-appointed victoria, with two men on the 
box dressed in the deepest mourning livery. 

She knows how to spend money, he reflected, with a comprehen- 
sive glance which took in the points of the gray cobs. 

He had an odd sort of feeling that this carriage in which he was 
sitting and this place to which he was going ought to be his. 

He was dressed accurately all in black, and he looked distinguished 
and interesting. As he drove over the bridge, a train thundered be- 
neath it. The gray cobs quivered, but behaved admirably. All along 
the approach to the house the grass had been left long, and it was 
starred with buttercups and daisy-buds. In a week or two it would 
be as white as a new fall of snow. 

Paul remembered the view of the river which lay before him glint- 
ing in the strong morning sun, the hills opposite standing out dis- 
tinctly in the clear atmosphere. It made him feel at least fifteen years 
younger. 

It was always a stupid hole,’^ he reflected. She is very welcome 
to it.^^ 

There was no sign of life when he reached the house, except a man- 
servant who appeared to take his valise and who inquired respectfully 
if he wished to go to his room. Feeling tolerably fresh after his short 
journey, he replied in the negative, and, seating himself in the draw- 
ing-room, he awaited Mrs. Thorndyke’s coming. 

The room was full of flowers : every available vase held a bunch 
of lilies, roses, or pansies. The long French windows were open, and 
the song of a canary in its gilded cage on the veranda, came shrilly 
in. On a low ottoman by one window lay a morning paper, a little 
black Swedish glove, and a bunch of fading crimson roses. There was 
a crayon portrait of Theodore over the mantel-piece. It smiled down 
with unconscious pleasantry on Paul waiting for Theodore^s widow. 
Verily, one man soweth and another reapeth. 

Presently Lorrimer heard a sound like the soft trailing of a gown 
over a wood floor, and in a moment Jessica stood before him. She 
was dressed, as usual, in a very plain gown, which had not a hint of 
what Ruskin calls evasions into prettiness,^^ and yet she was beauti- 
ful. The perfect contour of throat and cheek, the pure red and white 
of her complexion, looked all the more charming for their sombre 
setting. The only relief to the general blackness of her attire was 
the thin muslin bands at wrists and throat, — the badge of her widow- 
hood. 

She held out her hand to Lorrimer with the slightest possible part- 
ing of the lips, — hardly a smile. 

I am glad to see you,^^ she said, in a winning voice. 

He immediately said to himself, ^^She is playing a part. This 
gravity is feigned, but I wonT let her know that I think so.^^ 

It seems very pleasant to be here once more,’^ he said, aloud, and 
very sad, too. Thank you for letting me come.^^ 

I am glad to know you,^^ she answered, with that same sweet 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 743 

gravity. have heard — Theodore — and the rest speak of you 

often.’^ 

Yes, we were all much together when w^e were children. The old 
place looks very lovely 

‘^Very,^^ she replied; but I am told that we have two deadly 
enemies lying in wait for us, — chills and mosquitoes.^^ 

That may be true. There is rather a marshy look to the ground 
at the back of the place, which makes one apprehensive.^^ 

Would you like to look about a little Jessica asked. 

f^Yery much. It is too pleasant a day to stay in-doors, said 
Paul. 

Mrs. Thorndyke picked up the black glove which lay on the otto- 
man, and after some little search succeeded in finding its mate. In the 
hall she stopped for her parasol. The envious sun was not allowed to 
revel in the whiteness of the beauty’s complexion. Lorrimer smiled, 
and remarked to himself that his fair cousin appreciated her charms. 

We shall probably find mamma in the summer-house. It is her 
favorite resort on these sunny mornings,” said Jessica, trailing her black 
gown over the bright sward, and walking slightly in advance of Paul. 

The place looks exceedingly well kept up,” observed Lorrimer, 
giving a comprehensive glance at his surroundings. 

I am glad you think so. The location is ideal, and being so near 
the water is charming. At least we like it.” 

As they approached the summer-house they perceived that Mrs. 
Hilton was seated there in a low wicker chair, with a book in her hand. 
It was too much like a butcher’s or grocer’s book to be in harmony 
with her poetical surroundings. A pile of similar volumes lay on a 
small table near. The good lady’s brow was knitted, as if in deep 
thought, and she held a lead-pencil suspended in mid-air, as though 
uncertain as to the result of her calculations. 

When she was roused by the voice of her daughter, she rose and 
welcomed Lorrimer with great cordiality. There was a slight tinge of 
nervousness in her manner. She appeared to feel that he was a person 
to be conciliated. Jessica was cool and untroubled. She showed 
plainly that she was not ashamed of her position and knew how to 
maintain it. 

Lorrimer, while he chatted with Mrs. Hilton, quietly observed and 
criticised Mrs. Thorndyke. He thought her behavior perfect. There 
was an exquisite completeness about her exterior, which satisfied the 
eye ; and there was something within all that loveliness which he felt 
sure w^as worth discovering. 

Jessica spoke little. She leaned her arms on the balustrade and 
looked over into the water. In the cleft of the rock grew a small 
cedar-tree. It thrust its gray branches and sparse foliage up towards 
her, as though in a struggling despair of ever reaching such perfection. 

Presently, in a pause in the conversation, Mr. Lorrimer approached 

her. 

What a lovely spot this must be at sunset !” he said. 

Have you never been here before ?” she asked, raising her head 
slightly, and looking over her shoulder at him. 


744 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORN DYKE. 


Not since I was twenty, — which is long enough ago/^ 

Ah, twenty is the age when one appreciates sunsets/^ 

That is a compensation for much crudity,^^ said Paul. To me, 
twenty means mere babyhood. I have got long past it, — in years, if 
not maturity.^^ 

‘^That may be true of men. Women, as a rule, are not crude at 
twenty,’^ replied Jessica. 

Some are not, I allow,^^ he said. 

There was that in his manner which made the remark a person- 
ality. 

Mrs. Hilton raised her eyes from the contemplation of the butchePs 
book. 

‘^You resent being called crude, donT you, Jessica she said, 
smiling. — You must know, Mr. Lorrimer, that Mrs. Thorndyke is our 
family oracle. We have always put her on a pedestal and worshipped 
her, and she is not apt to yield her opinion for any one.^^ 

‘^And why should she?^^ said Paul. Who questions the divine 
right of beauty ? I, for one, bow to perfection. 

I suppose, then, you seldom find it necessary to remove your hat,’^ 
said Jessica, in a caustic tone. 

She resented such undraped compliments. They offended her 
artistic sense. 

Lorrimer looked silently into her eyes. His head w^as uncovered, 
and he stood with his hat in his hand. His eyes conveyed more 
homage than his words had done. There was a certain boldness in his 
glance at times which caused women to shrink from him, but he could 
be exquisitely tender. 

So these two looked at each other, and Mrs. Hilton looked at the 
butcher-book. The spell was broken by the sound of wheels on the 
gravel drive. An exceedingly dingy carriage, evidently one hired from 
the neighboring village, drawn by two attenuated horses, was approach- 
ing the house. It drew up at the door, and a woman alighted. A crape 
veil of large dimensions was drawn tightly over the face, but there was 
something in the figure which affected Jessica unpleasantly and recalled 
some one disagreeable, — whom, she scarcely knew. 

Lorrimer uttered a suppressed exclamation, — not indicative of 
delight. 

Augusta Westalow he said. 

Dear ! dear said Mrs. Hilton, casting her accounts on the table 
recklessly, and rising with a hasty movement. 

An expression of amused disdain swept over Jessica^s features. 

She has come to fight me on my own ground,^^ she observed, with 
a sort of haughty tranquillity. 

It will be very entertaining,^^ said Paul. I am glad to be here. 
Do not let her intimidate you, Mrs. Thorndyke.^^ Then, lowering his 
voice, I will protect you from her, never fear.^^ 

Jessica tossed her head. 

Fear ? What does that mean said she, with a gesture of superb 
contempt. I do not know the feeling. Come, I must receive 
her.^^ 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


745 


She left the summer-house, descended the steps, and passed lightly 
over the shade-checkered lawn, threading her way between the stems 
of the pine-trees. Lorrimer followed slowly. He felt repulsed. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

Mes. Westalow stood on the veranda, with her veil thrown 
back. Jessica mounted the low steps with her hand extended. 

^^Mrs. Westalow she said. ^^How kind to dispense with a 
formal invitation ! I was intending to write to you next week and 
ask for a visit, but you have forestalled me. Where is your trunk? 
Let me make you comfortable.^^ 

By this time Jessica, cool, smiling, beautiful, had clasped her sister- 
in-law’s hand, and was leading her into the house. , 

I have no trunk,” said Augusta, briefly. I have not come to 
stay. As to invitations, I have always been accustomed to visit my 
brother’s house without formality. I have always made myself at 
home.” 

Ah,” said Jessica, with innocent sweetness, I can well believe 
it.” 

Mrs. Westalow now caught sight of Lorrimer. 

What ! you here, Paul?” said she, with surprise. 

Yes, Augusta. I am an invited guest,” said her cousin, coolly. 

How warm you look ! You really should not travel such a hot day.” 

Mrs. Thorndyke led the way into the drawing-room. 

Let me take your bonnet and veil,” she said ; and pray take this 
fan. You are very kind to undergo such a disagreeable journey for my 
sake.” 

Lorrimer stood in the background, with an indescribable expression 
of face. Augusta was literally speechless, but her eyes talked for her. 
Jessica feared every moment for her own gravity, which was going. 
Lily happened to bounce in, and thus caused a diversion. She was 
presented to Mrs. Westalow, who looked at her in a judicial manner. 

I understood that you were all beauties in this family,” she said, 
with great impertinence. 

You were misinformed,” said Lily. The whole stock of beauty 
w'as exhausted when my sister was born.” 

Mrs. Westalow made no reply, but, turning to Jessica, said, — 

‘‘ Mrs. Thorndyke, I can only stay a short time. May I see you 
alone ?” 

Certainly,” said Jessica ; but first let me offer you some luncheon. 
I see it is one o’clock.” 

The clock struck as she spoke. 

Mrs. Hilton had by this time gathered sufficient courage to enter 
the terrible presence. She had met Mrs. Westalow before, and had 
carried away from the interview a great and nervous horror of Jessica’s 
sister-in-law. It pleased Mrs. Westalow on this occasion to be kind 
and condescending to the little lady. Perhaps Jessica called out so 


746 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


much dislike and ill-feeling that there was none left for the other 
members of her family. 

The pleasant, amicable party went in to luncheon. Mrs. Westalow 
swept the dining-room with a comprehensive glance before taking her 
seat. Mrs. Hilton said grace. Augusta looked keenly at all the table- 
appointments, the blue china, the silver, the bowl of red roses in the 
midst of it all. Then she pensively regarded her napkin-ring. 

This is mine,^^ she said, holding it up for inspection. “ I cut my 
teeth on it.’^ 

Paul held out his hand for it. 

What tender interests cluster round a souvenir like this he 
said, gravely, addressing every one in general and nobody in particular. 

See the dents made by Mrs. Westalow^s innocent little teeth ! Why, 
I protest, it makes me young again 

Paul was the only person who ever rendered his cousin speechless. 
For a moment she was silent, but not longer than a moment. 

^^That napkin-ring is one of my earliest recollections. I canft 
imagine how my poor brother ever happened to have it. It is marked 
with my name,^^ she observed. 

I have heard of certain fortunate persons who were born with 
silver spoons in their mouths, but never any one with a silver napkin- 
ring,^^ said Paul, still intent on the article which was attracting so much 
notice. This ought to be preserved as the first thing which taught 
Mrs. Westalow to bite. Since then, Augusta, have you not found that 
there are some objects less yielding than silver 

Come,^^ said Jessica, hastily, ‘^Tve really seem to have very little to 
talk about, to allow such a small thing to engross our conversation. 
Tell me something about yourself, Mrs. Westalow. Have you made 
your plans for the summer 

Augusta sipped her tea for a moment before replying. 

^^Not yeV’ she said. ^^Mrs. Langford and I have had many dis- 
cussions on the subject. She, you know, would like to go to Ocean 
Grove, on account of the prayer-meetings. One lives in a bathing-suit 
there, and goes to meetings all day long. Now, to me the bathing-suit 
is the only attractive feature, but that is exactly what Anna objects to. 
She is extremely proper in all her ideas. The prayer-meetings, I must 
confess, are too much for me. Anna is the victim of a religious mania. 
Now, I prefer to go to some place where one can see a few decent people, 
and have a little gayety, — to look at only, I mean, of course, for my 
mourning would prevent my participating in it. Newport is charming 
if one can afford a cottage, but the hotel life is abominable. I canft 
afford a cottage. I wonder you don’t take one, Mrs. Thorndyke.” 

Really, I can’t think of any special reason, Mrs. Westalow. The 
idea has never occurred to me,” said Jessica, coldly. 

Augusta ran on : 

Oh, I saw a friend of yours the other day, — young Carroll. Good- 
looking, and not stupid, but unfortunately a beggar.” 

Ah?” said Jessica. never heard of his begging.” 

Never? I thought he had begged something of you, which wasn’t 
granted. So the world says, at least.” 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE, 747 

^^The world is blind, like its interpreters/^ said Mrs. Thorndyke, 
haughtily, and turning a shade or two paler. 

‘^Is George Carroll a friend of yours asked Paul. 

He is, indeed, — a valued friend, she said. 

Mr. Carroll is one of the best and nicest young men I know,^^ 
said Mrs. Hilton, with a sort of mild boldness. 

‘‘ Goodness, however,^^ said Augusta, tartly, never put money into 
any man’s pocket. In fact, the reverse of that quality is often more 
remunerative. A man can’t carry his fortune in his face, as a handsome 
woman can.” Her eyes were fastened on Jessica’s face as she spoke. 

Jessica pushed her chair away from the table, and rose. 

^^Mrs. Westalow,” she said, with a cutting glance from her blazing 
gray eyes, ‘‘ you said that you desired to see me alone. No doubt my 
mother and the rest will leave us the drawing-room to ourselves. — Lily, 
perhaps Mr. Lorrimer would like some tennis by and by. Will you 
see that he does what he likes ?” 

She pushed aside the lace curtains between the rooms, and stood 
waiting for Mrs. Westalow to pass out. She looked like a young em- 
press, with her splendid figure silhouetted against the white drapery 
and her slender hand raised and half buried among the folds. Her 
whole form seemed to dilate with resentment of the many insults which 
had been cumulatively heaped upon her, but her voice was courteous, 
though icy cold. Mrs. Westalow entered the drawing-room, and her 
sister-in-law followed. Jessica waited until her guest was seated, then, 
taking a fan from the mantel-piece, sat down in a large wicker chair 
near the window. Augusta appeared slightly disconcerted. She kept 
her eyes down, and toyed a moment with the rings on her fingers, slip- 
ping them up and down with a nervous motion. There was something 
about this young, black-robed goddess which frightened her. Self- 
control and the restraint which refinement imposes always impress 
a vulgar mind with a vague sense of its own vulgarity. So this 
woman, who had been born a lady, but whose tongue would have won 
laurels for a Billingsgate fish-wife, was discomforted by the repose of 
manner exhibited by her brother’s widow. 

There was a silence, during which the little canary sang shrilly in 
his gilded cage, and the perfumes of the spring afternoon crept in 
through the open window. The river gleamed silver through the half- 
closed slats of the blinds. An adventurous bee, who had strayed in 
along with the fragrance and the sunlight, boomed heavily about 
among the roses which stood in vases on the mantel-piece and on the 
little tables in which the room abounded. 

Mrs. Westalow felt that she must be the first to speak. 

You were, perhaps, surprised to see me here,” she began. 

Jessica looked her calmly in the face, but made no reply. 

I came with a specific purpose,” she continued. 

Again no answer. 

I came,” she went on, desperately, about that diamond pin, — 
the one you sent me. It was an insult.” 

. Jessica swayed her fan slowly backwards and forwards. 

I regret that you should so misconstrue me,” she said. 


748 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


I don’t misconstrue von/’ said Augusta. I judge vou bv my- 
self.” ^ ^ ^ 

‘^You must prirdon me if I object to that standard of measure- 
ment/’ said Jessica, with ceremonious coolness. 

You are a clever woman, Mrs. Thorndyke. You utter the great- 
est rudenesses with a point and polish which almost make them appear 
like civilities ; but you do not deceive me.” 

Again Augusta commenced pushing the rings up and down her 
spare fingers in a flurried way. 

Why waste time, Mrs. Westalow, in telling me your opinion of 
me? It is not the first time that you have tri^d to impress me with a 
realization of your enmity. You are entirely inimical to me. A^ou 
have been so from the first. When you came here to-day, I resolved 
to take the initiative and treat you with all kindness and consideration. 
But no woman with any self-respect — and I have a great deal — can 
allow herself to be insulted pointedly and repeatedly without resenting 
it. All idea of friendship is at an end. You hate me bitterly, and 
show it on every occasion ; and I — pardon me again if I say that I 
do not love you.” 

Jessica’s face was pale with deep feeling, and tlie irrepressible tears 
stood in her eyes. Mrs. Westalow colored deeply, and avoided her 
glance. 

I disdain to justify myself,” Jessica went on, her voice trembling 
a little. I will only remind you of what you know to be the truth, 
— that I refused to marry your brother, when his kindness and nobility 
of heart led him to urge such a course upon me. It was only when I 
knew that he was dying, and that it would never again be in my power 
to grant or deny a request of his, that I yielded to the importunity of 
himself and of your sister. I am cruelly misjudged by you, and, I 
dare say, by others like you ; but as long as my own heart does not 
condemn me, I can bear these persecutions and slanders, humiliating as 
they are.” 

During this impassioned speech Mrs. Westalow had been divided 
between a desire to relent and mingle her tears with those of the beau- 
tiful pleader and a wish to escape from the effect which she felt was 
being produced on her by such eloquence. She was an impulsive 
woman, and her shallow but emotional nature was stirred by what she 
heard. Whilst she was debating what course to pursue, Jessica regained 
her self-possession, and furtively dashed away the moisture which stood 
in her eyes. 

What ^ insult’ was there in my sending you the diamond pin ? 
Why am I so grossly misrepresented ?” 

It was an insult because you have supplanted Anna and myself ; 
because out of all the jewels that should have been mine you dole out 
one diamond butterfly and think it a generous gift,” said Mrs. Westa- 
low, with a burst of fierceness. She had decided not to relent. 

^^I consider it a mistaken kindness,” said Jessica. ^^The jewels — 
and until Mr. Thorndyke’s will was read I never knew that you had 
any family jewels — wejjp intrusted to my keeping by my husband,* — 
your brother, — and I did not feel myself at liberty to dispose of them. 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


749 


I should not have considered it right to give any of the diamonds to 
my own family, and, as I am not at all greedy for them myself, they 
are simply one more in a long list of responsibilities which already 
cause me some uneasiness. I sent you the pin because I thought it a 
graceful and sisterly act on my part, and because I was foolish enough 
to fancy that you might derive some pleasure from it. This is the 
insult which appears to rankle.^^ 

have brought back the pin,^^ said Mrs. Westalow. I am glad 
you gave none of them to your own family. The set will not be 
broken/^ 

She had had a vague idea that Mrs. Hilton and Lily were wallow- 
ing in diamonds, — that, Cleopatra-like, they might be dissolving precious 
stones in their tea, for aught she knew to the contrary. It relieved her 
mind to ascertain that the butterfly was the only one of the pins which 
had left its box in the solemn velvet-lined family jewel-case to wing 
its way to a new’ owner. 

She put her hand into her pocket, and drew out a small box. 

^^This is the butterfly,^^ she said, handing it to Jessica. ^‘If your 
motives were good, I thank you.^^ 

Jessica took the box. 

^‘And I thank you,^ she said, for a valuable if painful lesson. 
This shall be my last attempt to gather grapes from thistles.^’ 

She rose as she spoke, and Mrs. Westalow felt that the interview 
was at an end. She stood for a moment silent, then said, It would 
have been better to let me tell you this before I w^as compelled to break 
bread in this house , — your house, with much bitterness. 

It makes little diflerence,^^ replied the widow, wdth great calm- 
ness. In future my hospitality shall not be thrust upon you.^’ 

^^One word more,^^ said Mrs. Westalow, taking a long breath, as 
though to swallow the last remark. To be honest with you, I must 
confess that I should never have tamely submitted to the present state 
of things if I could have done otherwise. I fully intended to contest 
Theodore’s will; but no one supported me in the undertaking, and so I 
did nothing.” 

‘‘ All this is unnecessary,” said Jessica. This is nothing new. I 
know it already.” 

Very w’ell. Then I have said all I ever intend to say on the 
subject.” 

Mrs. Thorndyke gave a smile of infinite incredulity, but made no 
reply to the remark. 

Allow me to send you to the station,” she said, politely. 

The carriage will be here in a few moments. I ordered it to 
return.” 

Mrs. Westalow w^ent over to the mirror, put on her bonnet and veil, 
and, after some little search, succeeded in finding her gloves. Then 
she turned and confronted Mrs. Thorndyke. 

It will be some time before I see you again — voluntarily,” she 

said. 

Jessica smiled. The woman was so insulting that it was almost 
amusing. 

VoL. XLI.— 48 


750 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


Good-by/^ she went on. I am indebted to you for my lunch, 
which was very good. Be so kind as to send me the napkin-ring 
marked A. T. As I remarked before, it is mine. I hope you will 
prosper and enjoy your ill-gotten gains. Good-by. 

The situation was becoming a little strained, and when the sound 
of wheels was heard, both ladies experienced a sense of relief. 

The rusty carriage, with the dirty driver and the lean horses, drew 
up. Mrs. Westalow descended the steps and climbed into the carriage, 
metaphorically shaking the dust of Acacia Point off her feet. 

Jessica sought refuge in her own room, where her enforced calm 
gave way to a burst of tears. 


CHAPTER IX. 

When Jessica descended to the piazza, about five o’clock, the traces 
of the tears which she had shed were not entirely obliterated, and her 
beauty had sufiered somewhat, though only temporarily. 

Lorrimer noticed these signs of depression, — a paleness, a general 
languor of carriage, and a slight redness about the eyes. He felt some 
surprise at what he considered a new discovery, — that Mrs. Thorndyke 
was possessed of sensibilities. These he considered a needlessly luxuri- 
ous possession for himself, but he could not help experiencing a vague 
feeling of gladness that he had found an additional charm in his new 
kins. /Oman. 

When Jessica appeared, he was sitting, dressed in white flannels, in 
a long wicker chair, under the shade of the awnings. Lily, who had 
been playing several violent games at lawn tennis with him, reclined in 
another equally comfortable chair, and was fanning herself briskly. 

We are utterly dishevelled, as you see, Mrs. Thorndyke,” said 
Paul, rising, and offering her his chair. 

His looks belied his words, for he had the luck to be one of the 
favored few who never appear uncomfortably warm. 

Miss Hilton has beaten me shamefully,” he went on, as Jessica 
declined the proffered seat and chose a more upright chair. I am out 
of practice, you see, for in Berlin one does not play tennis. There is 
but one set in the whole place.” 

How odd !” said Jessica. Why is that ?” 

It is considered very injra dig,/’ said Paul ; and as to a man 
appearing without his coat, even on the tennis-ground, he would have 
half the city authorities about his ears in no time.” 

I want to hear all about Germany,” said his hostess. I have 
always longed to go abroad, but have not had the good fortune.” 

‘‘Don’t begin anything till we have had tea,” cried Lily. “We 
are dying for something to drink.” 

As she spoke, the obsequious butler appeared, bearing a great silver 
tray, on which the Thorndyke tea-set looked undeniably rich and hand- 
some. 

Tea, refreshing and delicious as it is at all times to a lover of that 
beverage, certainly tastes better out of Dresden cups into which it has 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


751 


been poured from a silver teapot so bright and polished that one takes 
pleasure in looking at it. In the days of shabby gowns, maids-of-all- 
work, and Queen Anne hideousness in New Jersey, Lily and Jessica 
had always indulged in afternoon tea; and a memory of the milk 
which tried to be cream and couldn’t, the baker’s bread and question- 
able butter, the small allowance of sugar, often rushed into the minds 
of the two girls in their altered circumstances. 

Now the cream was not as thin as if just escaped from a course of 
Banting : it was so rich it would scarcely pour. Now the bread was 
the freshest and the butter the most delicious that one could desire. 

A pretty woman never looks more charming than when she is 
making tea. Paul’s aesthetic taste was thoroughly satisfied as he 
watched his new cousin presiding over the tea-table. 

When all were comfortably ensconced, cup in hand, and Mrs. Hil- 
ton had joined the party, the conversation wandered back to Germany. 
Paul told how for some time he had held the position of secretary to 
the American Legation at Berlin. Some months before, the minister 
had been recalled to America, for a temporary leave of absence, by 
pressing family affairs, and during this visit Lorrimer had been ap- 
pointed charg^-d^ affaires. He went on telling many amusing anecdotes 
illustrative of the Germans and their mode of life, and made himself 
thoroughly amusing till it was time to dress for dinner. 

Lily pronounced him a success. She also observed that she wished 
to go abroad in the autumn ; but, though her sister assented to her first 
remark, the second remained unanswered. 

After dinner, during which Jessica lost a good deal of her pensive- 
ness and brightened wonderfully under the influence of the lively talk, 
she sauntered out to the summer-house on the rocks, and was presently 
joined by Lorrimer. He ardently desired a Ute-a-tHe with her. He 
had dropped the tone of bantering gallantry which he instinctively used 
towards women, for he felt the force of her silent dignity, which seemed 
to forbid anything even remotely bordering on flirtation. 

Besides the natural bias which most men have in favor of pretty 
women, a sudden and very decided preference had sprung up within 
him for the lady who had robbed him of his inheritance. 

As he walked across the little bridge which led to the summer- 
house, Jessica was sitting in the sunset light, with her back towards 
him. A look of sadness had again come over her face, as he observed 
when she turned and saw him. The conflict of the morning had deeply 
impressed her. He could perceive that it was so; and if he admired 
the tenderness of a heart which could be wounded by Augusta West- 
alow’s tongue, he respected hugely the spirit which knew how to with- 
stand its attacks, at least in the presence of the enemy. 

He felt impelled to raise the cloud from Jessica’s face if possible. 
As he stood beside her, he said, with a matter-of-fact air, — 

How well I remember fishing off this old rock years ago ! It was 
my first lesson in patience, for I used to sit for hours and never catch 
anything.” 

Tell me about those old days,” Jessica said, wdth some interest. 

You know I am quite ignorant of Theodore’s boyhood.” 


752 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


He was a good fellow/^ said Lorrimer, more gravely, and, for 
some inexplicable reason, fond of me/^ 

And his sisters 

‘‘ They were just as one who knows them now would imagine 
them, — Mrs. Langford a quiet, pretty little girl, devoted to her doll- 
children, obedient, affectionate, in short a model, Augusta a little devil 
in petticoats, and in this case, as you see, the child was mother to the 
woman.^^ He leaned against the pillar by which he stood, and looked 
out upon the sheet of shining water with eyes that saw again the by- 
gone years instead of his present material suroundings. 

After a pause, Jessica said, in a low tone, — 

It may be bad taste to speak of the subject to you, but I want so 
much to know the She paused, with evident embarrassment. 

Go on,^^ said Paul. Please feel no diffidence with me. There 
is not the slightest need for it.’^ 

She seemed reassured, and continued : 

What I want to know is the substance of Mr. Thorndyke^s old 
will, — the one before the last.^’ 

She said this with a manifest effort. 

Lorrimer replied with perfect coolness, and without removing his 
gaze from the golden-flooded western horizon, — 

The old will left a million to each of the sisters, and all the rest 
to — me.^^ 

And how was it that Theodore inherited the whole estate in the 
beginning?^’ asked Jessica, with great interest, now that the ice had 
been broken. 

My uncle,’^ said Paul, still looking away from her, cherished 
certain ideas in regard to property which are peculiarly un-American. 
He believed in primogeniture, and in the English manner the bulk of 
his fortune came to Theodore. My cousin shared his father’s opinions 
to a great extent, and it was generally understood that I was his heir. 
However, though that arrangement suited me admirably, I cannot deny 
that Theodore had a very excellent reason for changing his mind.” 

He laughed rather mechanically, and Jessica’s quick ear detected a 
bitter ring in his words. A sudden rush of feeling burst through the 
wall which her dignity had erected between them. 

Ah,” she said, impulsively, ^Giow you must hate me !” 

Lorrimer did not move. He only turned his deep, inscrutable eyes 
upon her. 

No,” he said, with slow distinctness : it’s a very odd thing, but 
I don’t.” 

There was something so cold-blooded in his perfect self-possession 
that she felt no shame for what she had said. The barrier between 
them was gone, and they must now consider themselves on a more 
intimate footing. 

I meant to hate you desperately,” he went on, apparently quite 
unmoved by what he was saying, but for the life of me I couldn’t. 
I had expected to see the face of a schemer and adventuress ; but the 
look in your eyes when we met outside the room where poor Theodore 
was lying disarmed me. They were the eyes of a good woman.” 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


753 


He was silent. The little waves lapped gently at the foot of the 
rocks ; the sun had gone, and the hills looked stern and dark against the 
primrose sky. 

And yet/^ said Jessica, almost tremulously, I had robbed you.’^ 

Not intentionally,^^ he said, settling down on the bench opposite 
to her. know of your conscientious treatment of Theodore. I 
think you deserve all you have. I^m a battered worldling myself, but 
I can still, perhaps all the more for that reason, appreciate goodness in 
others. 

If we are to see one another often, as I pray we shall, you must 
stop having any feeling about me and my disappointment. I can take 
it like a man, and I shall never remind you of it myself. I shall like 
to feel when I go back to Germany, as I must do in the autumn, that 
you are enjoying everything to the full; I shall like to think of you 
here in the midst of all that is charming, — the queen of it all, — the 
right woman in the right place. . . . Now, will you forget all this feeling 
about my wrongs? You mustn^t waste your pity on nie.’^ 

He ended more lightly than he had begun. 

Jessica sighed a sigh of real relief. 

Thank you so much she said. Everything will be easier 
how.^^ 

She rose, for the interview had lasted long enough. As far as main- 
taining her dignity was concerned, she felt herself a miserable failure, 
but this new friendly understanding seemed to lift the weight from her 
conscience. Lily’s voice broke the stillness as they turned to leave the 
summer-house. 

^‘Two candidates for chills and fever!” she called, gayly, as she 
came from out the shadow of the pine-trees. 

Lorrimer answered in the same mood, and they passed into the 
house. Lily watched them with an amused smile on her face. 

I perceive,” said she to herself, that the widow Thorndyke is 
not entirely inconsolable.” 


CHAPTER X. 

Lorrimer did not leave Acacia Point on the Monday. His 
three hostesses pressed him to stay, and the days went so fast that it 
was Thursday before he realized that he was engaged elsewhere for the 
following Sunday. About a week after he had left, he met Augusta 
Westalow in town. 

Do you want the latest news from your new sister ?” asked Paul, 
as coolly as if he were not putting a match to dynamite. 

So you have been there?” she said. So you have gone body and 
soul over to the enemy ?” 

^^Such a charming enemy, Augusta! You know the Bible rule 
about enemies, don’t you?” he asked, provokingly. 

^^You have got some scheme on hand, I can see, Paul,” said 
Augusta. But you mustn’t feel too sure. Other men consider that 
woman’s millions charming, and need them more than you do.” 

What do you mean ?” he asked, with sudden sharpness. 


764 


BEAUTIFUL MRS, THORNDYKE. 


^^That young beggar of a newspaper man — Carroll, his name is, 
isn’t it ? — has been visiting Mrs. Thorndyke.” 

Has he ?” asked Lorrimer, annoyed in spite of himself. 

Certainly. He is an old friend of hers. Why shouldn’t he go ?” 
answered his cousin, still provokingly. 

There is no reason that I can think of,” he replied. But the 
thought of Carroll at Acacia Point caused him many unpleasant 
twinges during that day and several others. 

Our young editor, truth to tell, enjoyed his visit hugely. He had 
not meant to enjoy it, and was rather vexed with himself for feeling so 
comfortable in Jessica’s house. 

During his short sojourn he did not see his hostess alone until just 
at the last. He was to leave in an hour or two, and Mrs. Tliorndyke 
artfully introduced him to the summer-house on the rocks. 

‘‘ Sit down here,” said she, almost boldly. ‘‘ You are the only man 
who tells me the truth. I want to know how I appear amidst my new 
surroundings.” 

‘‘ Well, upon my word, that is a leading question,” said Carroll, 
laughing as if he rather liked it. 

You never were given to flattery, you know,” said Jessica, laugh- 
ing too. I don’t know when I feel more totally crushed and tram- 
pled upon than after an interview with you.” 

Then my friendship is very wholesome for you. I am the only 
leaven in this lump of worldliness and temptation,” said George, di- 
dactically. 

Yet it is a very pleasant lump,” said eTessica, with a half sigh. 

And the leaven is unwelcome, eh ?” asked Carroll. 

No,” said Mrs. Thorndyke, smiling now ; not when it is repre- 
sented by you. Now give me good advice.” 

So he endeavored to do her bidding, and the two talked for some 
time, getting nearer to each other’s real feelings than they had ever 
been before. And George Carroll left Jessica with the conviction that 
she was not the spoilt, worldly girl he had always thought her, and 
with the sickening realization that this discovery came too late. 

Being a brave man, he decided that he had better not see her any 
more in this confidential manner. He stuck to his word with re- 
doubled energy, straining his faculties to the utmost to insure the 
success of his darling enterprise, which had suddenly become somehow 
so much less precious. He neglected Jessica, who felt it. Paul Lor- 
rimer paid her the most delicate homage, which soothed her wounded 
pride, and thus she saw much of her new cousin and nothing of 
George. 

Thus the summer passed without special incident. The public had 
almost forgotten Mrs. Theodore Thorndyke. More recent sensations 
were agitating it. 

In the autumn she began to weary of her seclusion and chafe for a 
little of the old freedom. A slight attack of malaria, largely mixed 
with ennui, made a change of air imperative. In September Lorrimer 
had sailed for Germany in high spirits and flattering himself that he 


BEAUTIFUL MRS, THORNDFKE. 


765 


had secured a high place in the good graces of his cousin-in-law. In 
October he was startled and delighted by a letter from that capricious 
young lady, announcing that she and the Hiltons intended to spend the 
winter abroad. 

want an entire change/^ she wrote. ‘‘J. am tired of the river 
and the trees and the uninteresting natives who are always trying to 
work on my feelings and get something out of me. I have tried the 
Lady Bountiful business till the clergymen have asked me to stop 
pauperizing the neighborhood. Now, would you recommend Berlin 
as a good place to winter in? You are the only relative we have 
abroad, or friend either, for that matter. I don’t want to be a tourist, 
but to settle down and learn some interesting things about some 
country. Please advise us.” 

I have said that Paul was startled and delighted. He had an ex- 
cellent reason for feeling something besides pleasure at the prospect of 
having Mrs. Thorndyke all to himself. As usual, there was a woman 
in the case, and it was the thought of her which made him tremble. It 
took a long time to determine what advice he should give the Hiltons 
and Mrs. Thorndyke, and his mind was seriously unsettled for several 
days in consequence. He had intended to return to America as soon 
as possible and follow up whatever advantages he had gained while 
there. Meanwhile, he had been temporizing. The other woman in 
the case, who considered that she had a clear right to him, might make 
things very unpleasant ; but then — when would he ever again have such 
an opportunity of winning Jessica’s confidence and affection? She 
would be entirely dependent on him in every emergency, for, as she 
said, she had no other friend in Europe. 

The upshot of all his fevered cogitations was that his answer to 
Jessica was so entirely satisfactory that the next letter which he received 
from her instructed him to engage for her the most charming apartment 
in Berlin. 


CHAPTER XI. 

The other woman” w^as Countess Irma von Wolfenfels. 

Her mother was a Scotchwoman, who at the age of five-and-thirty 
had still belonged to the numerous sisterhood of spinsters. She had 
met, amid the ever-green hills of Carlsbad, old Count von Wolfenfels, a 
peaceable, gentle old man of retiring habits and no particular love of 
the sex. The Scotch lady, well-born but indigent, decided at once to 
marry the count, but it took the poor old nobleman much longer to 
decide to let himself be married. She pursued him, ill-natured people 
say, into more than one city, and at last he yielded his name and fortune, 
if not his heart, to the Caledonian enchantress. 

Their only son died at his birth, but Irma lived and grew to be the 
pride and solace of her father. When she was twenty-seven years old, 
and still single, having refused a great many offers of marriage, the 
count died, and the mother and daughter w^ere thrown upon each 
other’s mercy, which was not extensive nor very tender. Each one saw 
and hated the other’s infirmities, and, though they praised one another 


756 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


extravagantly in the presence of strangers, their lonely hours, which 
they endeavored to make as few as possible, saw many a wrangle and 
actual disagreement. 

They lived now here, now there; to-day in Florence, next week in 
Berlin. They knew everybody, were received at half a dozen European 
courts, but not very much admired by any one who knew them well. 

During his residence in Berlin as Secretary of Legation, Paul Lor- 
rimer had met and developed a singular intimacy with the German girl. 
The old countess, whose wicked old head was not troubled overmuch 
with notions of etiquette except in public, laid no restrictions on Irma, 
who had certainly reached years of discretion. Paul found himself 
welcome enough at the rooms which the mother and daughter inhabited 
in the Hotel de Russie, and he amused the elder lady as much as he 
entertained and captivated the younger. He was the only American 
Irma had ever known, and she took pleasure in practising her whiles 
upon him. At one time Berlin society, which has a provincial love of 
trifles, interested itself in the affairs of the Wolfenfels to the extent of 
informing them, through one or two of its most virtuous ornaments, 
that the freedom of Countess Irma^s behavior was a scandal to so 
proper a city as the capital of Germany. Old Wolfenfels laughed her 
worldly, rasping old laugh, and said in a discordant tone that she knew 
her daughter better than any one else, and she would answer for her 
morals. 

Meanwhile, Irma was discreet enough in public to satisfy all the 
gossips from IJnter den Linden to Potsdam, and the wickedest thing 
she had ever done in regard to outraging the convenances was to have 
an occasional conversation with Lorrimer when her mamma was not in 
the salon. 

She was a woman of very striking personality. Her height was 
unusual, and she was certainly rather massive, but she had superb, rust- 
brown tresses, which she wore plaited around and around her head, a 
pair of fine, violet-gray eyes, which were perpetually rolling, and a 
mouth which w^ould have been handsome but for its excessive mobility, 
which showed too much of the place where nature had fastened in her 
handsome tekh. She spoke English with fluency and an accent which 
was charming though it sounded affected. Her accomplishments were 
many. She possessed what she herself called a phenomenal voice,^^ 
and Wagner was her idol. Never a season passed without a visit to 
Baireuth. 

There was nothing modest or retiring about Irma. She had her 
mother’s push and enterprise, and a cosmopolitan experience. 

The old countess had a voice like a peacock, and a contempt for 
mankind in general and womankind in particular. She had seen so 
much of Continental laxness, told and heard so many scandalous stories, 
that she was a person practically unshockable, — but highly respectable 
herself, be it understood. In person she was stoutish, bilious-eyed, and 
painted. Her elaborately-dressed gray head was always crowned by a 
widow’s cap, fastened on with black, ball-headed pins. 

The deceased count had been dead less than a year when Jessica 
decided to visit Berlin and break in on this happy circle. 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


757 


It was not without trepidation that Paul Lorrimer wended his way 
to the Russie, to inform his fair friend of Mrs. Thorndyke’s expectal 
advent. He found mother and daughter occupied with their music, and 
embroidery. Both looked as though they had just been having an en- 
counter ; but the atmosphere cleared at once as Paul appeared on the 
scene. 

Ah, Mr. Lorrimer exclaimed Irma, quite eagerly, and with a 
delicious soft roll of the Ps in his name. ‘^You come at the right 
moment, is it not, mamma?’’ 

It is always the right moment for Mr. Lorrimer,” said the count- 
ess, with a graciousness which was unintentionally contradicted by the 
natural gruffness of her voice. Irma and I were having one of our 
discussions. The dear child is wonderfully headstrong, like her poor 
father.” 

^^Achy lieber Papa .'” sighed Irma, casting up hands and eyes. He 
was a dove ! an angel !” 

Paul had kissed the countess’s hand in good German fashion, and 
approached Irma almost with nervousness. 

I have something to tell you,” he said, which will interest you.” 

More interest than usual ?” she asked, with a little languid ser- 
pentine movement of the neck. She was sitting before the piano, half 
turned away from it. 

More so to me. Do you remember my cousin in America, of 
whom I spoke ?” he went on. 

As if one could forget !” she murmured, rather spitefully. One 
hears so much of this Madame Thorndyke.” 

You will not hear of her, but see her,” said Paul, boldly. She 
is coming to Berlin for the winter.” 

How most extraordinary !” cried Irma. What for, may I ask ?” 

To amuse herself, — for change of air and scene. Why not?” 

How odd you Americans must be ! We do not go to cities where 
we know nobody. You care nothing about being strange or lonely. 
You go everywhere, pour passer le tempsP 

‘^Is your beautiful widow coming here?” asked Countess von 
Wolfenfels, sharply. ^‘I want to see her. Is she as handsome as 
Irma ?’^ 

Oh, countess !” said Paul, unabashed, how can she be ?” 

Hush, mamma ! Seek no more compliments for me, please.” 

Irma smiled rather spitefully. 

I am all impatience to see this lady,” she said. I hear much of 
American beauty.” 

Presently the old countess left the room, as she often did during 
Paul’s visits. Irma moved a little nearer to him. 

^^Well ?” she said. 

There was something tigerish in her great eyes as she fastened 
them on Lorrimer’s face. 

Well ?” he echoed, with a shade of uneasiness in his manner. 

Have you nothing to say to me ?” she asked, still with her eyes 
fixed on him. 

I thought I had been saying a good deal,” he replied. 


758 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


good deal, yes; but nothing to the purpose,’^ she answered, 

grimly. 

What do you want?’^ he asked. 

Only the fulfilment of your w^ord,^^ she said, speaking very slowly 
and clearly. That is all.’^ 

Lorrimer set his teeth hard, but spoke with the sort of nervous 
good humor which one uses in addressing a dangerous dog which must 
be pacified. 

‘‘ Countess, he said, suavely, the whole affair was a failure. I 
am a failure. Nobody wants a failure.’^ 

Perhaps,^’ said the countess, there are some who have the bad 
taste to want them.^^ 

A soft look came into her eyes, and they relaxed their grip on his 
face. 

It has all turned out badly, you see,’^ said Lorrimer, more firmly. 
Irma^s melting moods were comparatively easy to manage. I am no 
better off 

That is not so ! It is false she interrupted. 

What reason have you to say that?^^ he inquired, coolly. 

^^I know it,^^ she said, with a sort of ferocious sullenness. You 
are better off by a great deal. Your cousin’s will made you so.” 

A mere nothing. I am simply one of your caprices. You 
care nothing for me. The whole thing is a mistake.” He tried to 
laugh. 

Irma got up and came still nearer. Her eyes were on a level with 
his now, and their violet depths burnt unpleasantly. 

Look !” she said, rapidly, and with a strong German accent. 

The day when you speak of love to that other woman, she shall 
know all ! I know you ! You do not deceive me ! I despise you, 
but, ach Gotty I love you ! On that day I shall know what you have 
done ; nothing shall be hid from me, and then nothing shall be hid from 
her ! I have said it !” 

With a sudden hiss of passion, she sank back into her chair. Lor- 
rimer’s face was gray, and his features were quite hard and quiet. 

What a tigress you are !” he said, sneeringly. Your preference 
for me is really extraordinary. I don’t deserve the honor.” 

No,” she said, with a slight laugh, you do not, but you have it 
all the same. I only w^ant to warn you.” 

A very pleasant way of doing it, certainly, — one which makes 
you, of course, dearer than ever to me.” He smiled diabolically. 

The blood surged over her face. 

Paul,” she cried, forgive me ! I am so hasty, so wicked ! I 
will not any more speak so !” 

She rose again and held out her fine white hands to him, but he 
was as hard as flint. 

One does not forgive at once,” he said, in a low tone. He was 
unmoved, while she was quivering and pulsating with a passion as 
strong as her anger had been a minute before. 

With a rustling of skirts Countess AYolfenfels entered, and, after a 
few commonplace civilities, the visitor withdrew. 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


759 


It was balm to his spirit to receive Mrs. Thorndyke when she 
arrived. He was at the station to meet her, and escorted her party to 
the beautiful apartments which he had secured for them in the Hohen- 
zollern-Strasse. Here he had managed to have a fine open wood fire 
burning in the salon, and masses of flowers, for which he had ran- 
sacked Berlin, perfumed the room. 

Jessica stood with a halo of firelight and a radiance from the wax 
candles encircling her. Her face was framed in the long black fur 
which enveloped her throat and shoulders. She drew off her gloves 
and opened her cape. 

You have done well she said, admiringly. How charming it 
all is r 

Mrs. Hilton had already gone to hunt for the store-closet and 
kitchen. The maid- and man-servant whom this luxurious party had 
brought were standing helplessly outside the door, and Lily was dart- 
ing hither and thither as usual, now pausing to dip her nose into a 
cloud of odorous bloom, now warming her cold hands at the genial fire. 

^^It^s perfectly lovely she cried. ^^To think of our being in 
Berlin r 

Paul laughed heartily. 

How delightfully American !’’ he said. One never hears that 
^ perfectly lovely’ anywhere else but there.” 

‘^Well, if it is perfectly lovely what else can I say? I don’t 
know what it is in German,” retorted Lily, sinking into a deep chair 
with a sigh of contentment. 

Presently, when the dust of travel had been removed, a delicious 
little supper was served, and Jessica had further cause to admire the 
forethought of her cousin. 

As for him, he felt his chains being riveted. She was bewilder- 
ingly lovely. He could not eat for drinking in her beauty, — the velvet 
of her cheek, the turn of her neck, the delicious darkness of her eyes. 

I can’t believe that you are the young lady who came abroad for 
her health,” he said, looking at her with a sick dazed feeling which 
was new to him. 

Oh, the voyage set me up completely,” she replied. 

But it nearly killed me,” said Mrs. Hilton, plaintively, as she 
strenuously refused a plate of salad embellished with a compote of 
cherries. It’s a risky thing to come abroad at my age.” 

Your age, my dear Mrs. Hilton !” cried Paul. Why, I am 
very nearly your age myself !” 

This sally elicited a burst of light-hearted laughter from the two 
girls. They were in high spirits to-night, and easily amused. 

Oh, I can hardly wait till to-morrow !” cried Lily, as Paul was 
leaving them to their needed repose. ‘^I saw nothing to-night but 
horses as thin as towel-racks, and several soldiers.” 

You will see several more soldiers Avhile you are here,” said Paul, 
laughing. That is a never-failing diversion, if you care for them.” 

It was long before sleep descended on the little American colony in 
the Hohenzollern-Strasse. Everything, from the feather-bed coverlet 


760 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


to the porcelain stoves, was new to them. Jessica^s maid, who was a 
German, could fortunately communicate with the other servants and 
explain whatever puzzled her mistress. 

Under silken quilts, beneath showy curtains, at last they slept, 
eager for what the new day would bring. 


CHAPTER XII. 

The following morning was devoted to unpacking and arranging 
their new abode. To be sure, Lily was not quite as useful as usual, 
owing to an ever-recurring desire to stand at the window and watch 
the passers-by. Everything amused and delighted her, especially the 
soldiers, of whom, as Paul had predicted, she saw several more.^^ A 
foreigner in Germany is scarcely aware how much the brilliant uni- 
forms of the military part of the population add to the beauty of the 
streets, until he goes to some country which is not an armed camp, when 
he misses the former magnificence. 

The Hussars, in particular, fascinated Lily Hilton. During the first 
weeks of her sojourn in Berlin she never could resist the temptation of 
turning round to get a last view of their uniforms as they passed down 
the street, and the favored individual, with the vanity of his sex, would 
walk a shade straighter, if possible, hold his head a little stiifer, and 
swagger in a way which betrayed the consciousness of being watched 
by a fair foreigner. 

As soon as Lily could find an escort on this first day in Berlin, she 
sallied out, Baedecker in hand, to see the beauties of the city. She and 
Jessica^s maid went in one droschky, and Mrs. Thorndyke and her 
mother in another. Both carriages were drawn by horses inconceivably 
thin, which looked as if the army must have confiscated all the oats 
which should have been theirs. 

The weather was cold, and the leaves in the Thiergarten were fall- 
ing. The Americans commented on the different points of interest in 
a disrespectful way which would have enraged the loyal cocker had he 
numbered among his accomplishments a knowledge of the English 
language. He drove on, however, quite oblivious that these Goths 
and Vandals were ridiculing the size of his beloved Linden’’ and 
laughing at his venerable self. 

It was too late in the day to see the Emperor in the historic window 
of the palace, where Baedecker says he always stands at a certain hour, 
but they caught a glimpse of the most wonderful man in the world, 
with his great, grim, mastiff face, and his fine old head full of tre- 
mendous schemes for the future. 

It was late when the weary and attenuated horses deposited the 
party at their own door, if such can be called a door which belongs to 
half a dozen other families, like the portal in the Hohenzollern-Strasse. 

They found Paul waiting for them, and together they had their tea. 

Paul was full of entertaining nonsense. He talked mercilessly of 
the American minister, who was an amiable Western man, who had 
never heard of dress-boots or a white tie and could not speak any 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


761 


language but Westernese. He ridiculed the poor gentleman with so 
much wit that Lily and Jessica sci’eamed with laughter. Tlien he gave 
a humorous account of one of the attaches, who thought himself bur- 
dened not only with the maintenance of the honor of America, but, 
Atlas-like, with the whole round world. 

This badinage precisely suited Jessica, who became shamefully 
hilarious considering her weeds, among which, as Paul had once gal- 
lantly observed, she looked more of a flower than ever. 

Deep in her heart was a longing for news of George Carroll. 

Presently, when the merriment had subsided, she said, boldly, — 

Do you ever hear of our friend George Carroll 
Oh, yes : he is a friend of our consequential attache. But surely 
you must have seen him more lately than I have,^^ said Paul, with a 
certain dryness. 

No,^^ said Jessica, almost sadly : ^^he has quite deserted us.’^ 

He works very hard at his paper. There is some talk now at 
home of an International Congress in the interests of copyright, and 
some one said that in case the thing was really arranged to take place, 
Carroll might be a delegate.^^ 

He is very clever,’^ said Jessica, gently ; and there the talk ended. 

It was a curious fact that Lily always managed to make friends 
wherever she went ; and the present offered no exception to the general 
rule. It was also noticeable that while Jessica, through PauFs guidance, 
saw, in a quiet way, a good deal of diplomatic society, Lily struck out 
boldly and became acquainted with certain delightful literary and artistic 
persons of the Jewish persuasion. 

In Berlin the Hebrews, having been excluded from court and mili- 
tary circles, denied the army, diplomacy, and everything else aristocratic, 
as a profession, have turned their exceptional talents and ability into 
other channels. They are thus, many of them, extremely wealthy ; they 
are editors, men of letters, sculptors, painters, and musicians, to an ex- 
traordinary extent. 

It was Lily’s good fortune to make the acquaintance of a family the 
head of which was editor of the first review in Germany, and to be in- 
vited to sup with them one evening. As she spoke good French, and 
her hostess had a fair knowledge of English, all went smoothly from a 
linguistic stand-point. 

The company included one of the finest violinists in the world, a 
professor who thought that he spoke English, and a very well known 
authoress, all of whom shall be nameless, though there is nothing 
disagreeable to record of any one of them. The old lady was a picture, 
with her white puffs of hair, and black lace draperies falling from her 
head. When asked if she spoke any English, she said, with great de- 
voutness, Oott bewahre !” and that closed the conversation as far as 
Lily was concerned. 

The professor was a gentleman with truly leonine professorial locks 
which seemed to despise coercion and rose on end superior to it. He 

had come all the way from Vienna in order to write a work on 

What, think you ? On Goethe ? on Schiller ? On the genius of the 


762 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


German tongue? No, no! On the madness of Hamlet compared to 
the madness of all the rest of Shakespeare’s characters ! 

I have sometimes wondered whether he has finished the preface yet. 
Oh, you gloomy Danish royal gentleman in black, how much you have 
to answer for ! 

The supper was charming, and nobody thought of missing ham : 
in fact, I am not sure that it was absent from the board, as the modern 
Jews are too often nothing at all dietetically. 

Lily’s host informed her that she was the only American lady whose 
English he had ever understood, — which compliment she owed to the 
fact that she was talking more slowly than she ever had done in her 
life. As for the gentleman whose exhaustive knowledge of English 
had led him to make a study of England’s greatest bard, when Lily 
addressed a few words in her mother-tongue to him he visibly wilted, 
and could neither comprehend nor answer. The violinist talked a little, 
in very good English, and ate much. He informed Lily that two years 
hence she might have the pleasure of hearing him play in New York. 
It did not appear to occur to him that he might be dead before then, to 
say nothing of Lily. 

This evening was only one of many spent among very interesting 
and cultivated persons. The rich and vulgar Jews Lily did not meet. 
All this time Mrs. Thorndyke did not, of course, escape observation. 
Beauty without fortune is sure to be noticed, and when it is reinforced 
by more money than one knows what to do with,” as people say. 
Beauty is welcome wherever it chooses to go. Lorrimer did his duty 
nobly, not selfishly encouraging his fair cousin to pine in solitude, but 
drawing her as often as possible out of her seclusion. He might have 
obtained all sorts of invitations for her ; but she declared that dinners 
were the only form of social entertainment at which she would figure 
in this first year of her widowhood. 

For the first three weeks after Mrs. Thorndyke’s arrival in Berlin, 
Paul managed to keep his rival queens apart, though he knew very 
well that this state of things could not last forever, since nothing is 
enduring; and indeed it did not. The meeting came about in thiswise. 

Paul had brought together Mrs. Thorndyke, the Hiltons, and a 
charming family who had a delightful villa in the direction of the 
Zoological Gardens. This whole family was never so happy as when 
doing something kind to somebody, especially strangers and foreigners : 
therefore as soon as the American ladies were made known to her, the 
mother of the family invited all three to dinner. 

People who ^Mine late” in Berlin dine at five, — ^the hour when 
British subjects of similar standing are employing their afternoon tea 
as a bridge from luncheon to an eight-o’clock repast. 

Early as it was, it seemed late, on account of the shortness of the 
wduter day. The lamps and candles were lighted, and a wood fire 
leapt in the great fireplace of the hospitable hall in which the visitors 
found themselves. Their hostess was an Englishwoman, who had 
lived for thirty years in Germany, but was still English to her finger- 
tips. She was a slight, quiet little lady, one who was loved directly 
she showed her own sweet nature, which was pure unselfishness and 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


763 


goodness. Her husband was a singularly polished and handsome man, 
— a friend of the royal family, yet a Liberal in his politics. There 
were also present two daughters, in whom the blending of fine national 
traits had produced extremely happy results. 

To this pleasant circle were added Lorrimer, the diplomatic gentle- 
man who felt himself to be perpetually saving the honor of his country, 
another and more real diplornate, who had been accredited to many 
courts, where he had successfully represented England, and an old 
couple whose principal claim to our consideration is that they belonged 
to the two oldest families in Berlin. 

After the Hiltons and Jessica had entered upon that mauvais quart 
d!heure which is generally much longer than its name implies, there 
was another arrival. Paul could not help feeling a creeping sensation 
along what Irishmen call ^^the spine of his back^^ when he saw the 
two Wolfenfels enter the room. They were received with cordiality, 
presented to the Hiltons and Mrs. Thorndyke, and the young ladies 
of the house courtesied to the old countess, who kissed them on the 
cheek. 

Jessica looked, as usual, very beautiful, though she was dressed in 
the deepest mourning. Her gown was entirely of crape, not China 
crape, or what the milliners call crepe lisse,’^ but that heavy, crinkly, 
and expensive fabric which is worn by bereaved persons who can pay 
for it, and by some, I fear, who cannot, thus making the dress-makers 
partakers in their grief. Her bodice was high at the throat and long 
at the wrists, finished, as usual, with muslin bands. One could imagine, 
though, from the creamy tint of the skin which was visible, what 
superb shoulders and arms the crape must conceal. 

Lily was in half-mourning, and wore gray Swedish kid slippers, 
which were hereafter to excite remark. 

As dinner was immediately announced, there was little time for the 
guests to make observations among themselves. 

The host sat between the old countess and Mrs. Hilton, and Mrs. 
Thorndyke found herself next to Irma’s mother, with the young 
attache on the other side. She at once became absorbed in observing 
the countess, and left Mr. Hale to himself. The old lady was openly 
interested in her fair neighbor, and kept the conversational ball rolling. 

So we are both widows, my dear Mrs. Thorndyke,” she said, in 
her grating, discordant voice, which gave one a sympathetic sore throat 
only to hear it. ^^I see you don’t wear a cap. Few young widows do. 
Quite right, too ; quite right. If the count had died when I was your 
age, I wouldn’t have worn one either.” 

She did not add that if the count had died at that period she would 
never have known him at all. 

And how do you like Berlin ?” she went on, with scarcely a pause. 

How does it compare with New York?” 

Oh, they are not in the least alike,” said Jessica, smiling. You 
have much better pavements than ours, for one thing.” 

Indeed ? What else strikes you about our town ?” 

Well, the thinness of the droschky-horses, and the smallness of the 
linden-trees, if you don’t mind my saying it,” Jessica ventured to say. 


764 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


Not at all. I am not a Berliner. But you mustn’t say it to any 
of them. They think a great deal of those trees.” 

There is not a great deal of them to think of,” said Jessica, 
smiling. 

The countess, though Scotch, had a sense of humor, and smiled too. 
Then she turned suddenly towards Jessica and said, — 

You are very beautiful, my dear.” 

Thank you,” said Jessica, demurely. I try to be.” 

It doesn’t take much trying, I suspect,” said the old lady. ‘‘ Do 
you know your color looks like paint ? It is wonderful.” 

It certainly is not paint,” said Jessica, rather warmly. 

Take my advice, my dear. Never touch your face with anything 
but rain-water. That is all I u^c ; and my complexion is wonderful 
for a woman of my years.” 

Jessica looked at her with round eyes, for a more daringly frescoed 
old fa9ade than Countess von Wolfenfels’s face it would be hard to 
imagine. While Beauty w^as wondering whether she had heard aright, 
the youthful diplomatist seized the opportunity to enlighten her as to his 
own importance and the total want of ability which was conspicuous in 
the rest of the legation. He had scarcely commenced his plaintive tale, 
when the countess, having finished her entree^ began again to talk. 

That is my daughter over there,” she observed. Don’t you think 
her a great beauty ?” 

Jessica looked critically at Irma, who was more languishing and 
serpentine than ever, as she was seated next to her whilom adorer Paul. 

She certainly is good-looking,” said Mrs. Thorndyke. 

Oh, she is much admired. She has had scores of offers. But 
she adored her poor father too much to accept any of them.” 

^^Is she your only child?” asked Jessica. 

Yes. I had a son, but he lived only a few minutes.” 

How very sad !” said Jessica, with sympathy. 

Oh, I don’t know,” said the countess, with a manner as hard as 
nails. It was a good thing for Irma. She gets the title and estates 
now.” 

Jessica offered no more consolation. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

After dinner Irma came and seated herself beside Mrs. Thorn- 
dyke. 

You can’t imagine,” she began, how pleased I am to see you. 
Mamma and I have heard so very much of you.” 

^‘From Paul Lorrimer?” asked Jessica, amicably. 

There was a little flash in Irma’s eyes. 

‘^From your amiable cousin, — yes,” she said. 

He is not really my cousin, you know,” said Jessica, but we call 
him so, as he is a great friend of ours, and was a cousin of — my husband.” 
She stumbled over the name, which she had hardly ever been obliged 
to use before. 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 705 

Ah, yes, your romantic story is known to us,^^ said Irma, with 
her great eyes fixed on the other^s face. 

Jessica hastened to change the subject. 

I am hoping to hear you sing,^^ she said. Paul has told us 
about your lovely voice.^^ 

It is lovely assented Irma, modestly. It has quite a phenom- 
enal range, — two octaves and five notes. But I sing no more since my 
dear papa is dead.^^ 

Oh, forgive me exclaimed the warm-hearted Jessica. I under- 
stand.^^ 

From under lier drooping eyelids the serpentine countess was taking 
in every detail of the face and figure of the woman whom she conceived 
to be her rival. It was not without an agonizing twinge of anger and 
jealousy that she inwardly confessed that the young American was far 
more lovely than herself. 

I hope that we shall see something of one another this winter,^^ 
she said, graciously, in spite of her thoughts. ^^You stay for some 
months, I believe?’’ 

Yes ; until the spring,” said Jessica. 

In the mean time the lady who belonged to the oldest family in 
Berlin was studying every detail of Lily Hilton’s charming dinner- 
dress. She picked gently at the steel embroideries, and asked with 
the simplicity of a child where this vmnderschdn fabric was made. The 
gray slippers, too, created not a little excitement. Lily was requested 
to put out her foot, that they might be examined. She explained that 
Swedish kid slippers were the latest fashion in Paris. 

So !” said the old lady, simply. I thought they were tenyiis shoes 

On the whole, the evening was a pleasant one, though Jessica came 
away feeling that Countess Irma was not quite so friendly as she wished 
to appear. 

Do you know,” said Mrs. Thorndyke, as she sat with her sister 
over the fire in the salon , — do you know I cannot help thinking that 
Paul was not quite himself to-night ?” 

He didn’t drink much,” said Lily, artlessly. 

Shocking girl ! I didn’t mean that,” said her sister, laughing. 

But he did not speak either to me or to the young countess after 
dinner. He did not seem pleased, somehow, at our meeting.” 

^‘I rather thought that myself. What are you going to say, Jes- 
sica, by the way, when you are asked to be Mrs. Lorrimer ?” 

Oh, Lily !” And the widow blushed deeply. What do you 
mean ?” 

Don’t pretend innocence, Beauty. Paul has meant to marry you 
ever since he came to Acacia Point.” 

Jessica was silent for a moment. Presently she gravely said, I 
don’t know what to think of Paul.” 

^^Have you forgotten poor old George?” asked Lily, almost 
solemnly. 

No,” said Jessica, sadly, but he has forgotten me.” 

VoL. XLI.— 49 


766 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


At tliat moment, eleven o’clock in Berlin, five o’clock in New 
York, poor old George” was walking briskly up-town from hisofiSce. 
The city was in a state of slush and mud, it having showered the 
day before. The lamps were lit, and their rays were reflected in the 
myriad puddles produced by the usual thaw after the usual frost. As 
George waded along, deftly picking his way among these traps for the 
unwary, he was thinking, not of Jessica, but of the great question of In- 
ternational Copyright which was then agitating a small part of the com- 
munity. If, as some people said, there Tvere really going to be a Con- 
gress in the spring for the furtherance of copyright and its interests, he 
had good hope of being sent abroad as a delegate. Though George was 
able to make himself cheerful and happy wherever his lot might be cast, 
he was certainly happier in Europe than in America. Though he cared 
too little whether hats were unfashionable and his coats shabby, he 
was quite sensible of the delights of civilization. In Germany he was 
taken for a Berliner ; in France, for a Parisian. He was thoroughly 
American in his patriotism, and cosmopolitan in his tastes and power 
of enjoyment. 

He was rather a remarkable young man, this. Though I have 
slighted him and bestowed a good deal of time on Lorrimer and the 
rest, I have felt all the while that George was worthy of more notice 
than we have taken of him. He was remarkable for several reasons. 
First, he was never known to speak a disrespectful word of a woman, 
nor to tell a ribald story, nor to sing a song which could not be sung in 
the presence of his mother and sisters. (Whether this is remarkable or 
not I leave young men to decide.) Second, he was a Christian with- 
out cant or pretence. Third, he had really fine tastes and an exceed- 
ingly clever tongue in his head. Fourth, he was not only a man’s 
man but a woman’s man, and had not a shadow of humbug about 
him, liking rather to show his worst side, and leaving one to discover 
or not, as the case might be, what he really was. Faults he had, but 
no vices, and a heart so soft that he was always afraid that somebody 
might find it out. 

As he walked through the mud in the dusk, his brain busily re- 
volving the question of copyright, it occurred to him that he would 
stop and call on one of his friends who lived on the way. He was 
always welcome wherever he went, and to-night he thought he could 
manage to disembarrass his feet of a pound or two of mud before en- 
tering the drawing-room. This friend of his was a Mrs. Hale, the 
mother of the conceited attache. 

She was at home, and received him with cordiality. Before long 
she was talking about Mrs. Thorndyke. 

The beautiful widow has arrived in Berlin, and has already at- 
tracted attention, Teddy writes me,” she said. Paul Lorrimer is in 
attendance, and one may imagine the end.” 

What end ?” said George, feigning stupidity, which was a favorite 
game of his. 

Why, of course he wants the Thorndyke money. It will be no 
less welcome with Jessica attached,” said Mrs. Hale, What makes 
you so dense ?” 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 767 

Editing a paper, I suppose/^ said Carroll, gravely. If ever I 
start a ‘ society column,^ will you edit it, Mrs. Hale 

You mean I am a gossip ? Ah, George, when you are as old as 
I am, perhaps you will enjoy a little scandal too.^^ 

There was no scandal in what you told me. Tell me some more.^^ 
About Jessica? Oh, she has blossomed out, and is making up 
for all the hard times they have been through. She is a fine girl, I 
think : don^t you 

Very ; but I suppose this money will spoil her.^’ 

I don^t see why. She is very generous, they say.^^ 

Well, I hope she will be happy. Now tell me something about 
your own doings.^^ And that was the end of Jessica that day. 

Not, however, as regarded thoughts. Copyright at last had a rival, 
and CarrolFs mind clung tenaciously to that pleasant picture of Mrs. 
Thorndyke, with Lorrimer in attendance. 

He went on living his life, however, — went to balls a good many, 
and dinners not a few. Girls said he was rude, but they liked him. 

One day he did a very foolish thing. He had some new photo- 
graphs taken, to please one of his sisters, who was going away. When 
they came home he took one and sent it, without explanation of any 
sort, to Jessica Thorndyke. 

How that photograph fulfilled its mission we shall learn hereafter. 


CHAPTEE XIV. 

Time passed very quickly for the Hiltons that winter. They saw 
a great deal, and met a good many people. They made pilgrimages to 
Potsdam, Charlottenburg, and other points of interest. They drove in 
the Thiergarten, explored the museum, and saw operas and plays without 
number. 

Lily made the acquaintance of several wonderful old professors, who 
had dubious linen, shocking hats, gingham umbrellas, and a world-wide 
reputation. She also met a certain gay and charming captain of hussars, 
who became assiduous in his attentions to — Mrs. Hilton. 

Mrs. Thorndyke was much stared at whenever she appeared in 
public. When the snow came, Paul procured for her the most beautiful 
low Russian sleigh to be had for money, and in this she would speed 
along through the frosty air, half buried in long black fur, which made 
her rose-leaf cheeks look brighter than ever by contrast. 

The papers at last got hold of her story, and published a lengthy 
description of her, — her romantic wedding, her beauty, her money. 
The result was that letters came from all parts of the empire, and from 
Austria, and even from Hungary and Bohemia, written by various en- 
terprising persons who had more audacity than fortune. Some were 
from chambermaids in hotels who had aspirations more soaring than 
their condition seemed to warrant. Would the Gnadige Frau give of 
her abundance just a little, a very little fortune, that they might retire 
from the active practice of bed making ? One was from a young man who 
wanted only six thousand pounds that he might marry the object of his 


768 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


affections, who had an obdurate father. And, crowning illustration of 
what human nature will do and dare, one gentleman, who lived on the 
Rhine, wrote a long letter, describing himself as well-born and hand- 
some, but indigent, and inviting the lovely widow to mate her millions 
with his beauty in holy matrimony ! Lorrimer duly translated these 
epistles, much to Jessica’s amusement and amazement, for she had never 
dreamed that human nature could boast such prodigies of impudence 
as the writers of them. 

In America one young lady in the West had written demanding a 
wedding trousseau ; but this was the first occasion on which she had 
received an offer of marriage from an unknown man. 

By this time Jessica’s wealth had ceased to be a novelty. She was 
a little tired of having more than she knew what to do with, and 
realized some of the inconveniences peculiar to having great possessions. 
A scheme for ridding herself of her superfluity was working in her 
brain, and was to bear fruit in the future. 

She w^as resolved that no one should seek Lily on account of her 
sister’s millions, and let every one — especially the captain of hus- 
sars — understand that she did not intend to give her sister a dowry. 
The captain was a remarkably nice young fellow, w^ell-born and good- 
looking. In Europe courtships do not take long, and after some atten- 
tions bestowed on Mrs. Hilton, and a few decorous conversations with 
the sprightly Lily in the presence of either Jessica or her mother, the 
captain — who was also a Freiherr — asked permission to marry Miss 
Hilton. The mere fact that he had selected her instead of her sister 
was something in his favor. Mrs. Thorndyke thought Lily behaved 
with great discretion. She was making such progress with German 
that she could look forward to living in Germany without fear. Then, 
her soldierly Prussian was gentle and brave, and had kindled a romantic 
flame in her untrammelled American heart. However, she steadfastly 
refused to give an answer until the spring, which was now approaching. 

Jessica gave her much sweet counsel and sympathy. She was un- 
usually tender and subdued in those days, with a yearning look in her 
eyes which puzzled and annoyed Paul Lorrimer. Theodore’s millions 
had not brought contentment. Paul, himself, spent rather a wretched 
winter. Tortured on the one hand by the unvarying friendliness of 
Jessica, whom he loved with a force hitherto unknown to him, goaded 
on the other by the taunts and violent outbreaks of Irma, the nature 
of whose strange hold upon him w^as a secret to all but themselves, he 
knew very little peace. 

One afternoon in March, when hints of spring were beginning to 
be felt even in that Northern climate, the young countess more than 
ordinarily enraged Lorrimer. 

Her fits of jealousy and love alternated with times of coldness and 
calm threats. Whatever the bond between this man and woman might 
be, the links appeared to be w^earing out. Presently Paul rose up in 
his wrath, which was as still and white as Irma’s was flushed and violent. 

You are making my life so very disagreeable,” he said, that if 
we were any more closely connected I don’t think that I could endure 
it. All this brutal bullying of yours has made me hate you. I curse 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 709 

the day when you first tempted me to be a scoundrel and put myself in 
your power/^ 

I tempt you she said, with a grating laugh. What a mistake ! 
It was you, Mr. Lorrimer, who had your little plans ready, and I who 
gave you courage to carry them out. You are not a very clever 
scoundrel.^^ 

Perhaps not,’^ he said, looking -at her with a sort of loathing. 
At all events, not clever enough to be your husband.^^ 

‘‘ Ah,’^ she said, that is my affair. If you suit me 

She came a little nearer, and laid her hand on his arm. He shook 
her off. 

But I do not,’^ he said, firmly. ^Ht is altogether a mistake. For 
heaven’s sake, Irma, let me go. I do not love you any more.” 

I see that,” she said, with a sort of fierce self-control. I am 
neither deaf nor blind, and you do not take pains to deceive me.” 

‘‘ And I do love,” he went on, as though she had not spoken, 
some one else.” 

I know that, too,” said Irma. 

She was quiet now, and looked worn out with the struggle. 

Listen,” said Paul, sitting down, and motioning her to a seat 
beside him. I have something to propose.” 

^^Not marriage?” asked Irma, satirically. 

No ; that is out of the question.” 

Yet it is not every American who can marry a countess,” sug- 
gested Irma. 

No,” assented Paul ; it is not every American who wants to.” 

Irma actually smiled, but coldly. Her fury had subsided. 

What I wish to propose is this : I will give you the money 
which I got for that cursed deed ” 

You said that you got none.” 

I lied,” said Paul, with the tone of a man who was tired of ex- 
plaining. 

The countess threw up her hands, with a brief ejaculation in her 
mother-tongue. Then she turned to Lorrimer with a strange mixture 
of mockery and surprise in her face. 

Is it that you die to-night, my friend, that we have these strange 
truths ?” 

I don’t know,” said Paul, with a sort of dull weariness. Per- 
haps. I don’t care.” 

Go on,” said the countess. My amiable mamma will be here 
soon. Make haste.” 

^^As you care so much for money, you may have it if you 

will keep quietJ’ 

He turned his dark eyes upon her, and looked straight into her 
own. Irma moved uneasily, but her gaze did not falter. 

That, you know,” she said, with a little flippant laugh, I can 
never do. It is not my nature.” 

« Very well,” said Paul, quietly. I know as much about you as 
you do of me, — rather more. It will be a scandalous nut for Berlin 
society to crack.” 


770 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


The Berliners are not so simple as you believe/^ she said. “ They 
would not listen. Now give me the rest of your charming pro- 
gramme.^^ 

What a wonderful woman you are he exclaimed, in spite of 
himself. 

And yet you do not marry me.’^ 

No ; you are too wonderful.^^ 

Well, what is the plan?’^ 

The rest of it is, ... I am going to ask Mrs. Thorndyke to be 
my wife.^^ 

Ah said Irma, with a sort of passing shudder ; you will, will 

you 

That is my intention,’^ said Paul, with decision. 

No wonder you can afford to give me a little money. Will she 
accept you, do you think 

Probably not ; but I mean to ask her.^^ 

You are kind to prepare me so gently. You are not such a brute, 
after all.^’ 

She said this with a'^ kind of deadly pleasantry which was enough 
to freeze a timid man’s blood. But Paul was not timid. 

I hope,” said he, politely, that I shall become less and less 

brutal under the kindly influence of ” But the name stuck in his 

throat. 

I suppose that you will see her to-night,” said Irma, also politely. 
Then, as the old countess’s step was heard at the door, she added, 
Tell her that I will call on her early to-morrow morning.” 

And, as the Grafinn entered, Lorrimer left the room. 


CHAPTER XV. 

After a dinner eaten quite alone and embittered at each mouthful 
by his own reflections, Paul carried out his plan of calling on Mrs. 
Thorndyke. It would be unnecessary to describe his thoughts as he 
drove to the Hohenzollern-Strasse. By the time he reached the house 
he felt thoroughly unhinged and ready to do anything reckless and 
foolish. He was shown into the salon, where the servant told him 
that he would find Mrs. Thorndyke alone. The room was not bril- 
liantly lighted, yet he paused on the threshold with a look of dazzled 
bewilderment, for standing beside the fireplace, with her arm resting on 
the mantel-piece, was the most lovely woman he had ever seen. It cer- 
tainly was Jessica, — but Jessica transformed, sublimated, glorified into 
something more exquisite than she had ever been before. 

She wore a gown of some diaphanous black fabric, whose long, 
loose folds clung about her like a dark cloud. Her bodice was low, 
and displayed such arms and shoulders as one does not see every day. 
Besides this, she was blazing with diamonds. They seemed to illumi- 
nate the darker corners of the room with their scintillations. Bound 
her white throat glittered a collar of gems. A mass of brilliants 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 771 

blazed on her corsage, and an aigrette no less sparkling sprang lightly 
from her black waving hair. 

As Jessica turned to speak to him, Paul felt a wave of passion, 
misery, and hope flow over him. Who would not risk all to possess 
the love of this wonderful creature ? 

Don^t be frightened said Jessica, laughing, as she saw his be- 
wilderment. I am not mad, only trying on the finery in which I am 
to sit for my portrait to-morrow.^^ 

I certainly thought you had come from another sphere,’^ said Paul, 
trying to echo her laugh, and coming nearer to the gorgeous vision. 

Mamma and Lily are at the opera, and I am playing at royalty 
all by myself. How do you like the Thorndyke diamonds?’^ she said. 

I never cared much for them till now,^’ answered Paul, taking 
her hand. Then, with an irresistible impulse, he bent his head and 
lightly touched it with his lips. 

No German customs, if you please,^’ said Jessica, smiling. Take 
that very comfortable chair on the other side of the fire.” 

He seated himself, never taking his eyes from her face. 

I think I never saw anything so bewildering as you are to-night, 
Jessica,” he said, in a grave tone quite different from his ordinary voice. 

Ah, fine feathers make fine birds,” she said, frankly enjoying his 
admiration. Dress makes a vast difference, does it not ?” 

She had sat down in her chair, and was leaning slightly towards 
him, the firelight meanwhile turning her diamonds into rubies and 
throwing a ruddy glow over her white skin. 

Dress?” he said, impatiently. No ! It makes very little differ- 
ence what you wear. Do you know how — how — maddening you are, 
Jessica ?” 

She drew back a little. 

That is not a nice word to apply to me, Paul,” she replied. I 
don’t want to madden anybody.” 

There is no use in trying to talk commonplaces to-night,” he ex- 
claimed, with sudden vehemence. I came here with a definite pur- 
pose. I might as well tell you what it w^as.” 

Oh, it is a pity to be too definite, I think,” said Mrs. Thorndyke, 
rather nervously. Let us talk of something else.” 

How like a woman !” he said, with a slow, bitter smile. You 
goad us on by every word and look, — and then ” 

Let us talk of something else.” 

Don’t you know that is impossible? You miist hear me.” 

Paul had never been so excited and wanting in self-control. He 
felt that Jessica shrank from him, and tried to regain the mastery of 
himself. 

Jessica,” he continued, more quietly, don’t you know that I love 
you ?” 

She had sunk back in her chair, as he bent further towards her. 
She was a little paler, and her breath came quickly. 

did not know, Paul,” she said; then she added, honestly. 
Sometimes I thought so.” 

You did see it. I did not mean to trouble you until — until he 


772 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


had been dead a year, at least : it seemed indecent to speak sooner. 
But it is almost a year, Jessica, is it not?^^ 

He got up and leaned against the mantel-piece, with his head bent 
towards her. 

Yes,^^ she said, simply, almost.^^ 

There is something infectious in passion as strong as PauPs, and his 
sudden outburst was sweeping away Jessica’s usual common sense. 

He saw that he was making an impression, and followed it up 
rapidly. 

There has not been a day since my visit that I have not loved 
you,” lie went on, earnestly : ever since those days at Acacia Point I 
have felt that you were the only woman on earth for me.” 

Some sudden hardening influence seemed to come over her. 

And Countess Irma ?” she asked. 

Paul started, with a sudden stab of surprise going through him. 

I hate her !” he said, fiercely. 

The spell was broken. Jessica was once more herself. 

Did you always hate her?” she asked, calmly. 

‘‘ Who has been telling: you anything; about her?” he demanded. 

Nobody.” 

Then I do not understand why you have brought her name into 
our conversation to-night.” 

If it has made you angry, I am sorry.” 

^‘Let it pass. Why should I think of her? You have im- 
agined No, I will tell you the truth : I once thought I loved 

her, but I knew when I saw you that it was not so.” 

He turned and walked up and down the room for a moment or 
two. 

I know what a foolish thing I am doing,” he went on. When 
a poor man wants to marry a rich woman, one knows what every one 
will say. But I swear that the money is nothing to me.” 

Pray leave out all mention of my money, Paul,” she interposed. 

It sickens me.” 

He paused in his walk and stood still before her. 

Then you believe — ” he said, — oh, Jessica ! my darling ! you 
believe that I love you, — you and nothing else ?” 

Yes, Paul, I believe you,” she answered, simply. 

He was perplexed by her manner. It had neither the coldness of 
utter indifference nor the warmth of reciprocal feeling. She was very 
gentle, very quiet, but he felt no hope. 

Then what is your answer?” he asked, with infinite tenderness. 

He held out his hand to her. 

Will you trust me, Jessica?” 

She got up and stood close to him, but she made no movement 
towards the outstretched hand. 

I cannot tell you to-niglit,” she said, in a low voice, with her eyes 
bent down. I am very stupid, — very foolish, — but I — don’t know.” 

Paul Lorrimer was what women call fascinating.” It is not 
always an attribute of the very best men ; and Paul had it in perfection. 

He would not accept Jessica’s gentle repulse at first. He talked 


BEAUTIFUL MRS, THORNDYKE. 


773 


long and winningly to her. What he said shall be spared the reader. 
It was what all eloquent lovers say. We have all heard or said it 
some time in our lives, and it need not be repeated. 

Still, he left her unconvinced. 

A good woman^s instinct is a wonderful thing; and Jessica^s warned 
her not to decide hastily. There had been a time when she would have 
said “ Yes’^ to Paul LorrimePs momentous question. But that time 
was over ; and deep down in her heart was some subtile influence at 
work, which seemed to hold her back from the final plunge. 

“ To-morrow,’’ she said, you may come ; but do not hope.” 

May I kiss you good-night ?” asked Paul, meekly. 

No, certainly not,” said Jessica. 

He took this rebuff* with apparent resignation and left her with a 
long hand-clasp. 

Mrs. Thorndyke was more upset than she would have cared to 
own. A man like Lorrimer does not see a woman every day for months 
on an intimate and friendly footing without making some very strong 
impression. 

Jessica could not tell why Irma von Wolfenfels’s name had occurred 
to her at that moment. She had spoken it more as an experiment, and 
its instantaneous effect upon Paul convinced her that there was some- 
thing in her suspicions. Before Lily and Mrs. Hilton returned from 
the opera, she escaped to her own room. On her dressing-table was an 
envelope bearing the American postmark. She opened it, and drew 
forth a photograph. Before her were the thoughtful forehead, the 
grave honest eyes, the strong gentle face, of — George Carroll. 

The question was answered. 


CHAPTEK XVI. 

The next morning, faithful to her threat, Countess Irma went to 
call on Mrs. Thorndyke. She found her sitting with her mother and 
sister in the salon after their twelve-o’clock breakfast. She spoke 
graciously to all three, especially to her victim, as she considered Jessica, 
and said at once that she had come not only for the pleasure of seeing 
Mrs. Thorndyke, but to impart to her something of importance. 

‘‘ Then,” said Mrs. Hilton, rising, my daughter Lily and I will 
leave you.” 

Thanks,” said Irma, suavely. ^^I am sorry to break up this 
charming family group, but ” 

I quite understand,” said Mrs. Hilton ; and she and Lily left the 
room. 

Pray take this chair,” said Jessica. I think you will find it 
comfortable.” She felt in some dim inexplicable way that this visit 
was directly connected with Paul. 

Irma seated herself languidly, and Jessica took an arm-chair a 
short distance from her. 

^^Mr. Lorrimer was here last evening,” observed the countess, 
blandly, by way of opening the conversation. 


774 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


that what you came to tell me?^^ asked Jessica, smiling. ‘^I 
was here and saw him/^ 

Of course. So I supposed/^ said Irma. 

‘^Is that all?^^ asked Jessica, to whom the conversation was be- 
coming ludicrous. 

That/^ said the young countess, is the beginning.^^ 

Pray explain. You are making me very curious.^^ 

I came not to arouse curiosity, but to satisfy it. . . . Mr. Lorrimer 
asked you last night to be his wife ? Nicht wahr 

Really said Jessica, haughtily, you amaze me.’’ 

I am rude, am I not ? But I fear I must be ruder still. Tell 
me, I beg, madame, what answer did you make to him ?” 

^^Have you any right to ask me that question?” asked Jessica, 
sternly. 

Every right,” said the other, firmly, with a flash in her violet- 
gray eyes. The best of rights. He is promised to me.” 

‘^He certainly did not say so,” said Mrs. Thorndyke, trying to 
speak coolly in spite of the countess’s calm insolence. 

Perhaps he has changed his mind. One may do that and still be 
forced to keep one’s word,” said Irma, airily. When you hear what 
I have to tell of Paul, you will not care to see him again.” 

I have no desire to know any of my cousin’s secrets,” said Jessica, 
stiffly. 

Your cousin’ ! You call him cousin, still? Well, I must tell 
his secret, even if you care nothing for it.” 

Mrs. Thorndyke maintained a scornful silence, and Irma pro- 
ceeded : 

You will not claim Mr. Lorrimer as a relative, perhaps, when you 
know that he is dishonorable, — what you call, I think, a ^ scoundrel.’ 
Is that the right word ?” 

^^It is evidently the word you want,” said Jessica. ^^Go on.” 

Thank God,” she was saying to herself, that I do not love him !”) 

This story which I have to tell is not a pretty one ; but many 
things not at all pretty must be told. This is one.” 

She spoke as if her lips were very dry, and her cheeks and eyes 
bore evidence that she was suffering from fever induced by her sup- 
pressed agitation. 

A year ago, when the American minister was at home on leave, 
Paul was made charg^-d^ affaires. You knew it ?” 

Jessica nodded. 

Well, there was an old man in Berlin, an American, who was 
going to the Holy Land. He had a grand scheme for sending the 
Jews back to Jerusalem : one is sorry that it did not succeed, as we 
should not miss them ! — however, it came to nothing, as you shall see. 
He left his will, this old man, — Trowbridge was his name, — with Paul 
at the Legation. No one else knew what was in it. Mr. Trowbridge 
went on his journey and died in Palestine. Now came the time for 

the charitable Jewish scheme to be carried out ; but ” She paused, 

and passed her black-bordered handkerchief over her dry lips. 

Go on !” said Jessica, imperiously. 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 775 

I will ; but talking scandal of one’s neighbor makes the tongue 
stick,” said Irma, apologetically. 

It was our friend’s bad luck to meet the nephews of this Trow- 
bridge just then,” she continued. They were not in the will ; Paul 
was in need of money, and so he sold it to them.” 

^^Sold what?” cried Jessica, astounded. 

“ The will,” said Irma, still blandly. 

She looked at Jessica, to see whether this last crushing blow had 
told on her, but she saw only astonishment and horror, not the agony 
of \\^ounded love she had expected and hoped to see. 

Do you mean to say,” cried Jessica, excitedly, that Paul Lorri- 
mer so dishonored himself as to — to ” 

Yes,” said Irma, looking down, with a slight flush of shame on 
her hard face, he cheated the poor Jews out of their funds for the 
rebuilding of Jerusalem, and got a good round sum for holding his 
tongue. He would have deceived me,” she added, raising her eyes and 
grinding her teeth melodramatically : he pretended that he had re- 
ceived nothing.” 

‘^And you want to marry that man?” Jessica’s round startled 
eyes saw, as she gazed at Irma, another figure which had entered un- 
observed. It was Paul Lorrimer. 

He heard her last words, her tone of abhorrence, he saw these 
two women, both of whom he had in a way deceived, and he knew that 
his hour was come. He came forward with the same sort of courage 
which is so often shown by men on the gallows or at the guillotine. 
Completely ignoring Irma’s presence, he approached Jessica, who had 
sprung to her feet. His face looked quite aged and worn. 

I came for my answer,” he said, without any visible emotion, and 
I think I have it.” 

Oh, Paul !” cried Jessica, almost piteously, my dear cousin, is 
this true ?” 

What that woman has been telling you ? Yes, Jessica, it is all 

true.” 

His firmness faltered, and he bent his head so that her clear eyes 
might not read the shame in his face. To his surprise, she covered her 
own face with her hands and burst into tears. 

My darling,” he cried, springing to her side and trying to take 
her hand, my darling, do you care ?” 

But she motioned him away. 

Oh, the pity, the horror of it !” she sobbed, brokenly. To think 
that you could ask me ” 

She did not finish the sentence, but Paul shuddered as if she had 
stabbed him. His punishment was sufiiciently severe. 

As for Irma von Wolfenfels, she stood in the background, regarding 
her two victims with a mocking face like that of Mephistopheles in the 
immortal story. She had not spoken yet. Presently she said, — 

Have I not kept my promise ?” 

Paul turned upon her such a terrible regard that she faltered and 
changed color : 

^^Did you tell her who advised me to commit this crime? who 


776 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


aided and encouraged me ? who said ^ she could not marry a poor 
man’ ?” 

Jessica stopped sobbing, and looked from one to the other of this 
guilty pair. 

Go away !” she said to Irma, imperatively. I wdll not have 
you here. Your presence is hateful to me.” 

And your cousin ? Have you forgiven him already ?” asked 
Irma, diabolically. 

Whatever I have done or may do is nothing to you,” said Jes- 
sica, haughtily, and she pointed to the door. 

With an attempt at a smile. Countess Irma swept from the room, 
and Paul and Jessica were alone. 

At first it seemed as if neither could speak. Paul stood with his 
arms crossed on the mantel-piece, and his face buried in them. 

Jessica went and laid her hand gently on his shoulder. 

Don’t touch me,” he murmured. I am unworthy of it.” 

I want you to tell me everything yourself,” she said. Come ! 
Take courage. It is very dreadful, but perhaps I can help you.” 

The brutality of Irma had turned Jessica’s sympathies in the di- 
rection of the poor sinner who hid his face from her honest eyes. 

But I have lost you ! I have lost you !” he almost moaned. 

Yes, but it could never have been otherwise,” she said, kindly. 
I do not love you. I never have.” 

As she said this at last, aloud, an exulting warmth and happiness 
seemed to suffuse her whole being. For in this declaration was involved 
another, — her love for some one else. 

My poor cousin,” she went on, trust me. No one shall ever 
know all this from me ; but tell me how you could ever do this thing ; 
and how, oh, Paul, how could you, knowing it yourself, ask me to be 
your wife ?” 

The reproach conveyed in her words made the unhappy man wince. 

I must have been mad ; and she — that — ” he clinched his fist, — 
that woman told me that she would come here to-day and tell you 
everything. But I was so weary of her threats and all this misery 
that I longed to put an end to it all. I had very little hope that you 
cared for me.” 

By degrees she drew from him the whole wretched story of his sin ; 
how temptation had assailed him just at the time when he had least 
strength to withstand it, — when Irma had bewitched his senses and 
made him believe that he loved her with an enduring passion. Then 
he had gone to America, partly for change of air and scene, partly to 
arrange the final details of his crime with the Trowbridge brothers, 
who had left Europe and gone home. He even told Jessica the exact 
sum for which he had sold his soul’s peace. Then he described to her, 
hiding nothing, how he had been disappointed in his cousin’s will, 
and had determined, if possible, to recover the property by marrying 
Theodore’s widow. 

But, believe me,” he said, earnestly, before I had known you a 
week I loved you as I do now, — for yourself.” 

When his recital was ended, Jessica leaned back for a few moments 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


777 


in silence. Presently she said, Do not think me cruel, Paul, when I 
say that I will not see you again. One or the other of us must leave 
Berlin. 

In one way I think I can help you ; but I require time and 
thought. Leave me now. I will write to you.^^ She rose and held 
out her hand. May God forgive you she said, solemnly. I 
believe that you are penitent.^^ 

She would not listen to his protestations, but allowed him to kiss 
her hand, and then he left her. 

The next day he received the following note ; 

My dear Paul,: — I have sent directions to my lawyer in New 
York to make over to you a sum of money which I have told him I 
consider your due as my late husband’s heir. He will accept that ex- 
planation. You are to return what was given you a year ago, so that 
one great weight will be removed from your conscience. The money 
over and above this debt is what you are entitled to as Theodore’s 
cousin. I was arranging this division of the property when this 
trouble came ; and I want no thanks. Please do not try to see me 
again. Yours sincerely, 

‘‘3. H. T.” 


CHAPTER XVII. 

The events of the last few days had shaken Jessica exceedingly, 
and her one desire was to get away from Berlin as soon as possible. 
There were one or two things to be done before leaving, the most im- 
portant of which w^as the finishing of the portrait. This was hurried 
on, and absolutely completed much sooner than the artist had expected. 
In truth, he was loath to part with the beautiful picture. 

It was impossible to conceal wholly from Mrs. Hilton and Lily 
what had occurred. Jessica explained as much as she honorably could, 
and they were forced to appear content. As for Paul, after one brief 
letter of impassioned thanks and blessings for Mrs. Thorndyke’s 
princely generosity towards him, he was heard of no more by the 
Hiltons, for that time at least. 

Jessica declared her intention of going to England for the summer. 
Her mother was pleased at the prospect, especially as her second-cousin’s 
husband had just been appointed minister to that country. The little 
lady was becoming weary of German manners and customs, and longed 
to hear her own language spoken about her once more. Lily shed some 
tears at parting from her soldier-love ; but, as she promised to marry 
him in the summer, she was not inconsolable. 

Arrived in London, the party did not go to one of the enormous 
hotels so much alfected by Americans with more money than discrimi- 
nation. Mrs. Thorndyke, having been instructed and advised by one 
who knew” what he was talking about, secured rooms in a modest, 
unpretending, and very expensive hotel in one of the streets which 
branch off from Piccadilly. Nothing could be greater than the differ- 
ence between this house and the great caravansaries which have been so 


778 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


much patronized of late years. In the latter there was always a menu 
much fuller than any unhappy individual ever became after daringly 
partaking of all the dishes named in it. At Jessica’s quiet abode, on 
the contrary, one seldom saw a menu, but one was comfortably fed. 
To be sure, there was no gas, there were no electric lights, — the blaze so 
dear to the ordinary American heart, — neither were there many bath- 
rooms where hot baths were to be had at all hours without trouble to 
anybody. But there w^ere plenty of lamps and candles, and house- 
maids who had not yet emigrated and become too lady-like to carry 
water-cans or coals. 

The front windows had flower-boxes in them, and there was an at- 
mosphere of home about the place, — an atmosphere which cost about 
five guineas a week per head, with nothing else thrown in. 

London was as charming and as sooty as ever. The air was full 
of blacks, and the streets were as neat as a billiard- table, and almost as 
smooth, — the exact opposite of New York, where one might live most 
comfortably in a balloon. The florists’ windows were piled high with 
spring flowers, — layers of glowing daffodils and masses of pale prim- 
roses. In St. James’s Park the ducks were bobbing and quacking and 
jerking their tails, enjoying the spring weather. The turf was richly 
green, and the trees were uncurling their fresh leaves in the transient 
bursts of sunshine which favored them. 

The beautiful youths of Bond Street and Piccadilly and Mayfair 
in general were not yet in all their strength and glory. They were, for 
the most part, spending the Easter holidays out of town, and the season 
had not fairly begun. But there were hints of approaching gayety and 
delight in the air. The great houses were taking off* their brown hol- 
land pinafores and cleaning themselves generally, the shopkeepers were 
preparing their most seductive wares, the flowers were bursting into 
bloom in the parks and the jardinieres, and, in short, everything was 
beginning all over again, as it has done for many a year past, and will 
do, probably, for many a year to come. 

Saddened as Jessica was by her late awful discovery of Paul’s dis- 
honor, all the novelty and beauty of the great city cheered and fasci- 
nated her. Then, in the very bottom of her heart, was the knowledge 
that Carroll had not forgotten her. 

It happened, as we have said, that Mrs. Hilton’s cousin had mar- 
ried a lawyer, who had somehow been made minister to the court of 
St. James ; and this was the only link between Jessica and the fashion- 
able world. When the minister’s wdfe saw her beautiful relative arrive 
at the Legation for a call, she ejaculated, inwardly, “ Another woman 
who wants to be presented !” 

But the good, overworked lady’s fears were laid to rest by Jessica’s 
voluntary assurance that she came asking no favors and expecting 
none. 

If you knew, my dear,” said the minister’s wife, quite plaintively, 
what swarms of Americans are in London, you would pity me. If 
they can’t get any one else to present them, they fly to me. Women 
that one wouldn’t look at at home have one overruling desire, — to go 
to court. I can’t imagine why. What good does it do them ?” 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 779 

What, indeed echoed Mrs. Hilton. For my part, Louisa, the 
very thought frightens me.^^ 

Then Louisa gave a graphic account of how her countrywomen 
were crowding and pushing and overreaching one another in emu- 
lous strife; how Jennie This and Mattie That and Mrs. Jimmy Some- 
bodyelse had all dined at Marlborough House; how the Prince had 
danced with Mrs. Thespis, though she hod scandalized her relations 
by going on the stage ; how the man who rode a bucking mustang at 
the American circus had been seen on Lord Charles So-and-So^s coach 
in the Park, etc. The Hiltons were awed and surprised, and listened 
with a growing appetite for these social marvels. They came away 
with a confused feeling that London was even more wonderful than 
they had supposed, and that the invading wave of Americans seemed 
to be driving all before it. 

The next day, Mrs. Thorndyke was walking alone in Piccadilly, 
running the gauntlet of many eyes, more or less impertinent and ad- 
miring, when she saw a hansom fly past, and in it was George Carroll. 

So he was in London ! Her heart beat loudly, and for a moment 
her head swam a little. There was no use in deceiving herself. She 
loved him more than she had imagined, and she knew at that precise 
moment that she never could or would love any one else. 

How do women know these things ? 

It is one of the inexplicable phenomena of womanhood. They 
often think they know all this, but a fresh face and new charms reverse 
their decision. 

Jessica went directly back to the hotel and up into her sitting-room. 
There Lily sat reading. Into her sister’s lap Jessica threw her head, 
as the rest of her reclined at her feet, and promptly burst into tears. 

What in the world is the matter. Beauty?” cried Lily. ^^Are 
you hurt? Has any one insulted you? What is the matter?” 

^^Oh, Lily,” sobbed Mrs. Thorndyke, he is in London, — George 
is in London, and — I have just seen him, . . . and he hasn’t tried to 
find me !” 

Lily looked down on the black head with a half smile as she 
stroked it fondly. 

^^So it is true? You do love George? I am so glad !” she said, 
softly. 

Why should I love him? What has he ever done to make me 
love him ?” cried Jessica, sharply. The black head hereupon popped 
up, and two streaming, lugubrious eyes gazed at Lily. 

He’s just the best man you know,” said Lily. That’s all.” 

^^Then why,” said Beauty, with an irrelevancy not uncommon 
among the fair sex , — why has he not tried to find me?” 

‘^Because, you great beautiful baby, he has been in London just 
twenty-four hours,” answered Lily. 

How do you know ?” cried Jessica, sharply. 

Because I have seen it in the paper not an hour ago. He has 
come to look after his old craze Copyright with a capital C. He will 
be looking for you to-day.” 

Beauty looked crestfallen and ashamed. 


780 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


could almost die to think that even you know She 

paused and hid her head in Lily’s gown. 

Lily w^as an unselfish, affectionate girl, and considered her sister 
perfection. 

Is it likely, darling,” she said, gravely, wiping the tears off Jes- 
sica’s crimson cheek, the only one which was visible at the moment, — 
is it likely that you could not make any man love you ? I have al- 
ways seen something in Mr. Carroll’s manner which made me believe 
that he cared for you. He is very proud, and I think he misunder- 
stands you. This money has come between you.” 

^^Do you think so?” said Mrs. Thorndyke, eagerly, and jumping 
up with the quick lightness of youthful muscles and perfect symmetry. 

Then I will get rid of it sooner than I meant to.” With this ec- 
centric utterance, she left the room, leaving Lily to marvel at this new 
whim. 

In two weeks from that time Mrs. Westalow and Mrs. Langford 
received an extraordinary intimation from Mrs. Thorndyke’s lawyer, 
stating that one-half of their late brother’s fortune was to be divided 
between them. 

Each lady welcomed this remarkable news in her own way. Mrs. 
Langford heard it with tears and prayers of thanksgiving, calling down 
the blessing of heaven on the quixotic generosity of the giver. Mrs. 
Westalow gave a prolonged gasp of astonishment mingled with in- 
credulity. Then she said, That is the decentest thing that girl has 
done yet. However, it belongs to me anyway. So there’s not much 
goodness in it, after all.” 

Meanwhile, Jessica said nothing of what she had done, and did not 
yet miss the money. 

Her sole desire was to see George. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

As for George Carroll, he had no idea that Mrs. Thorndyke was in 
London. 

He was distinguishing himself at the Copyright Congress, and his 
spare time was taken up in social pleasures. His father was a well- 
known ex-diplomate, and by virtue of this, and his own individual 
attractions, he was soon immersed in gayety. 

The season had now really begun. Everything, from the flowers 
to the great ladies, was in full bloom. With some of the latter the 
bloom might be a little too fixed to be becoming, but still it all went to 
make the whole wonderful pageant more brilliant. 

Theodore Thorndyke had been dead for thirteen months. Jessica 
had taken off crape,” — such is the mysterious language of millinery, 
— and was now resolved to taste some of the delights which are the 
lawful possession of youth and beauty. 

One night in May she went with Lily to a great dinner given by 
Cousin Louisa,” the minister’s wife. Before she had been ten 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


781 


minutes in the drawing-room George Carroll was shaking hands with 
her. She stood trembling but radiant with the brilliancy and loveli- 
ness seen only in a beautiful woman in the presence of the man she loves. 

George frankly avowed his pleasure in seeing her again. He could 
not have told, for the life of him, how she was dressed, but he felt 
keenly every bewildering detail of her appearance, — the gauzy black 
gown glittering with jet and diamonds, the bare white arms and 
shoulders, the winsome young face, — above all, the expression of shy 
happiness on it which he had never before seen there. 

By great good fortune, they sat together at dinner. The American 
minister had a good cook and unimpeachable wines, but little recked 
these two so long as they might gaze into each other’s faces and speak 
in tones too well bred for whispers, too low for general conversation. 

The last item I saw about the ^ rich and beautiful Mrs. Thorn- 
dyke,’ ” said George, was in a New York paper. It said that you were 
in Berlin, and engaged to a Prussian officer.” 

Did you believe it ?” asked Beauty, mischievously. She was so 
happy that she could have screamed. 

No,” said George. I can’t say I did.” 

Jessica sparkled all over her face. 

Why ?” she asked, almost tenderly. 

Because,” said Carroll, impudently, as was his wont, I knew 
that it couldn’t be any one under a duke.” 

Mrs. Thorndyke’s face fell. For shame !” she said, reproachfully. 

You still think me mercenary.” 

^^No, I think you very sensible. I wouldn’t marry a Prussian 
officer if I were an American girl. You couldn’t be happy in Berlin, 
except in the royal family. You’re a queen, an empress.” 

‘‘ Uncrowned, and without subjects,” laughed Jessica. 

What do you call that diamond tiara arrangement ? And as for 
subjects, am I not enough ?” 

Enough to make any one laugh, — yes,” said Jessica. But, seri- 
ously, my sister Lily is engaged to a Prussian, Waldemar Hardenstein, 
a captain in the Garde Hussaren at Potsdam. He is a nice fellow, 
and he is very happy. We like him very much.” 

I know who he is, and I believe he is very nice. Is he well off?” 

Bather, I believe. He knows that Lily has nothing, for I took 
care to tell him so. He loves her dearly.” 

I will wish her joy after dinner.” 

After a pause, Jessica said, almost awkwardly, ‘^By the way, you 
must not tease me any more about being the ^ rich Mrs. Thorndyke.’ 
I have only a quarter of what I had when we last met.” 

I hope you have not had grave losses?” He looked concerned. 

‘^Losses, — yes,” said Beauty, blushing. ^^But Well, not 

ordinary losses. I can’t explain just now.” 

^^You certainly rouse my curiosity. Have you been founding a 
hospital, or a dogs’ home, or what? But I am impertinent to ask.” 

Perhaps I will tell you some day.” 

Ah, ^ some day’ is never ! Well, I won’t be rude, as I generally 
am. I will be courteous and conventional for this evening.” 

VoL. XLI.— 50 


782 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


Oh, no/^ said Jessica, with a sudden gleam of the old mischief 
which he knew so well. Don^t take all that trouble, Mr. Carroll ! jBe 
yourself 

George screamed with enjoyment of this sally, till he remembered 
with a sudden start of chagrin that he was not in the Land of the 
Free and the Home of the Brave,^^ but in the company of a dozen very 
proper English people, and had a lady of title on one side of him. 
Then he controlled his facial muscles, ^id discoursed eloquently of 
politics, copyright, and journalism during the rest of dinner. 

That evening Jessica made a conquest of Lord Gerald Chalkley, a 
younger son of the Marquis of Croydon. It was not long before 
he sought to ally his blue blood with Mrs. Thorndyke^s yellow gold ; 
but, though his boots were flawless, his gardenias the largest to be had 
at any price, and his hats made by the Prince’s hatters, he was gently 
dismissed by the American lady, for whom he had no charms. But this 
is not a part of our story. 

From the evening of the dinner Jessica began to be known. She 
was never a professional beauty, her photographs did not adorn the 
shop-windows of Mayfair, she did not dine at Marlborough House, 
neither did H. R. H.” insist upon meeting her. She did not kiss her 
majesty’s hand, nor flght for invitations to the houses of all the best 
people.” But she did go to dinners, operas, and plays. She did attire 
herself exquisitely. She had many a happy hour in and near London, 
and, crowning joy, she saw George Carroll nearly every day. 

How proud she was of him ! He was at his best in London. He 
w^as so well got up that he looked really handsome. He was so clever 
that the kindly English winced with surprise at his witticisms, as if a 
streak of American lightning had passed before them. Every one 
seemed to like him and to invite him to their houses. Jessica saw that 
money cannot give everything. George’s social position was far above 
hers, and she recognized the fact; but it was not for this that she 
loved him. She loved him . . . because she loved him ! Not a good 
reason, yet it seemed cogent enough to her. 

As to George, he basked in his happiness, and weakly forgot that 
it might not last. He asked Beauty one day what had become of 
Paul Lorrimer, and her answer convinced him that there was nothing 
between the cousins. 

Poor Paul ! He sank into the power of Countess Irma, and actu- 
ally married her. He was maddened by the thought of what he had 
lost, and she was clever enough to see that an assumed and iinexacting 
gentleness might still subdue him. And so it was. What their life 
was, who can tell ? Whether or not they had any happiness, whether 
the men who had tempted Paul ever restored their stolen gains to the 
object for which they had been intended, does not belong to these pages. 

Lily Hilton was married in the last week of J une. The wedding 
was necessarily a small one, as the Hiltons had very few friends in 
London. But the weather was fine, and the bride was happy, and all 
pa.ssed off well. There was no mistake possible about the nature of 
Waldemar’s feelings. His love was disinterested, and, now that Jes- 


BEAUTIFUL MRS, THORNDYKE. 7g3 

sica was certain of this, she presented her sister not only with her wed- 
ding-outfit, but with twenty thousand pounds. 

At this rate,’’ said she to herself, I shall soon be poor enough to 
suit even George !” 

After the excitement and tears of the wedding, Mrs. Hilton and 
Mrs. Thorndyke were glad to escape from London, where the void left 
by Lily’s departure was painfully felt, to a delightful house in Surrey, 
to which they had been invited by an American lady living in England. 
Of course George Carroll was of the party. He was beginning to feel 
that this happiness could not last forever, and he actually had so little 
conceit, and was so robbed of his usual powers of penetration, that he 
did not know that Jessica loved him. 

He made up his mind to fly from temptation, as he had once before 
done with only partial success. 

She, on the other hand, w^as in a prolonged fever of anxiety and 
impatience, and resolved to find out at all hazards what his feelings 
were towards her. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

In this frame of mind they met at their hostess’s tea-table. When 
the social rite of tea-drinking and cake-eating was finished, George 
suggested a stroll in the garden. They stepped out on to the velvet 
lawn, and walked between beds of glowing midsummer flowers to a 
seat at some distance under a spreading beech-tree. 

I am tired,” said Mrs. Thorndyke. Let us rest here.” 

There was something almost petulant in her tone. George glanced 
at her quickly. 

Tired already?” he said. You have been doing too much.” 

Yes,” she assented, more gently. I think I have.” 

But you have enjoyed England, haven’t you ?” asked George, in 
a conversational company-tone which drove Jessica frantic. 

Immensely,” she said, dryly. 

She sat down on the bench under the beech-tree, and leaned her 
hand against the smooth trunk behind her. George threw himself on 
the ground at her feet. 

One learns so much here simply by observation,” he said, looking 
a long way off and picking absently at a little flower which grew near 
his hand. 

That is true of every country,” said Mrs. Thorndyke, wearily. 

“ Yes, but we Americans think we know so much about the man- 
ners and customs of English people, until we come over. Now, I have 
seen a newly rich lady in New York afraid to introduce her guests to 
one another, because ^the best English people don’t introduce now.’ 
Whereas at some houses here I have been presented to a dozen persons. 
Then this same New York dame was painfully oppressed because at a 
ball I would shake hands with her. She tried to put me off with a 
courtesy, because, I suppose, she pictured the aristocracy all courtesying 
to each other. Now, nearly every person I have met has shaken hands 
with me.” 


784 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 


Our ^ Anglomaniacs’ are amusing. They have no idea that a man 
may hunt in anything but a red coat^ or be married in a cut-away.” 

After this, the forced dialogue on international traits ceased. 

Of all hours the hour before sunset is perhaps the most charm- 
ing of an English summer day. This afternoon the sky was tenderly 
blue and cloud-dappled. The low sun struck the landscape with almost 
level beams, warming every object into new beauty. The house, a few 
hundred yards away, but partially hidden from the pair who sat under 
the beech-tree, lay in a sort of sloping valley between two gentle, un- 
dulating hills. The rich green of turf and foliage was yet unspoiled 
by summer drought, and the exquisite roses were in full bloom, half 
covering the house, trailing over archways, and making the standard 
rose-trees look like huge long-stemmed bouquets. The whole scene 
was very lovely and peaceful, but its influence failed to quiet Jessica. 
Her head was on fire, her hands were icy. She felt that so much 
depended on this interview. 

George . Carroll was thinking the same thing, but his pride was 
holding him back from ever (as he thought) asking this beautiful crea- 
ture to be his wife. 

By the way,” he said, suddenly, as though following up a train 
of ideas, you said that you would tell me some day what had become 
of your money. Is this the day ?” 

Jessica colored. 

I don’t know,” she said, more confused than George had ever seen 
her. I do not think I ought to tell. It would seem like boasting.” 

^^Do you think I am likely to misunderstand you, after all this 
time ?” asked Carroll. 

After our long and intimate acquaintance ?” said Jessica, with a 
little forced laugh. Then, with sudden desperate boldness, ^^It is 
gone, that money. I gave it away.” 

Carroll jumped ofiP the grass and stood up before her. 

Gave it away he cried. What do you mean ?” 

I mean,” said Mrs. Thorndyke, blushing and trembling, but firm 
as a rock, now that the first plunge was over, I mean that I was far 
too rich for one young woman who had never been used to much 
money, and I really had no right to it. So I gave away at least half.” 

There was absolute silence for a minute. Then George sat down 
at the extreme end of the bench (for he had no lounging familiar little 
ways, this proper young man). 

Now tell me,” said he, gently, with his clear eyes fixed upon her 
face, tell me exactly what you did with it.” 

It was a curious thing that this high-spirited young lady generally 
did what this dictatorial George bade her. 

‘‘ Some I gave to Paul Lorrimer, but most to Mrs. Westalow and 
Mrs. Langford, and some — of course, a little — to dear Lily.” She 
spoke as if she were repeating a lesson. 

^^You know,” she added, apologetically, ^^I had no right to all 
that money, and I found that it — stood in the way of things.” 

She stopped and looked frightened. George’s heaiii leaped in his 
breast. 


BEAUTIFUL MRS. THORNDYKE. 785 

What things he asked, very softly, his eyes holding hers, and 
looking, oh, so full of a new, sweet life ! 

Oh, lots of things,^^ said Jessica, pulling absently at the button 
of her glove, and trying not to see George, though she couldn^t help 
doing so, as he had unconsciously come a good deal nearer. 

Oh, you glorious darling he said, still softly, but with a tone 
which sunk into her heart. My glorious darling 

She said nothing, but she was panting from fear, — from joy, — 
heaven knows what emotion. 

^‘Jessica,^^ he said, ^^will you give me this hand — without the 
glove 

She tore off the dead-black kid, and laid her hand, warm, white, 
living, in George^s own. 

Do you know what this means V’ he asked, solemnly. Do you 
know that this pledges you to be my own? — my very own, Jessica? 
Think well what you are doing.^^ 

This was too much. 

Oh, George,’^ she cried, do you love me? Oh, George, George ^ 
and in one moment her arms were folded about his neck, and two 
hearts, each as virgin as the other, beat together. 

^^What have I done?’^ cried Carroll, aghast, when the tingling 
rapture of the first long kiss was over. I have asked a princess to 
marry me.^^ 

No, you haven’t,^^ said Jessica, her great gray eyes shining through 
her tears. You havenT asked anybody to marry you And here the 
tears were made into, rainbows by the brilliance of her smile. 

Then I do now ! This minute ! Jessica, why did you give away 
all that money 

She turned upon him a face of unutterable affection, and said, with 
unblushing effrontery, — 

Because, sir, I knew that you would not love me with all that 
money, because you were a proud, mistaken creature.^^ 

‘^Oh, Jessica! To think of my blindnesss, and my audacity! 
How can a poor hack of a journalist like me make you happy 

By trying to,^^ said Jessica, almost saucily. 

Jessica,’^ he said, solemnly, I never loved any other woman.’^ 

^^George,^^ said she, with delicious archness, but with the tears 
hanging on her lashes, you are the only man who could make me 
believe that.’^ 

And he, because his unstained youth had been ignorant of love- 
making, feared to touch his beautiful beloved, and sat looking at her 
with adoring eyes. 

What does it matter he said, presently, whether it is much or 
little money? Such base things shall not come between us. I have 
found, under all the glitter, and beauty, and riches, all that I wanted, — 
a woman^s heart.^^ 

Dear, dear George ^ she said. Don’t tell anybody that I offered 
myself!” 


THE END. 


786 


A LITTLE TREATISE ON PLAGIARISMS. 


A LITTLE TREATISE ON PLAGIARISMS. 

O F yore, when a tribe and a language started on life together, there 
must have been a great deal of tautology ; coincidences of thought 
and expression to perplex a young civilization before it was steady on its 
feet. Characters and pursuits must have resembled the modern game 
of word-making, where random letters of the alphabet are dealt into 
your hand, and where you may form an at^’ or a so^^ as fast as your 
neighbor, and from inspiration quite as direct. We allow yet for dupli- 
cated intelligence ; we practise the daily amenity of agreeing with Bugg 
that it is growing warmer, and with Norfolk-Howard that the temper- 
ature is rising. In the conduct of life we ape one another as we will, 
collide, interchange, amalgamate, twang on the same harp, jerk by the 
same puppet-string; but you will observe that there is little suspicion 
of mockery or imitation in all that, and if one figure adopt the gait of 
another it is generally looked upon as nobody^s business. Do I con- 
sider it a servile thing of my neighbor that he buys his dinner at the 
spot where I bought mine yesterday ? that he also takes mutton, for 
my given price per pound ? No one ever speculated how the late Mr. 
Shelley could afford to die at twenty-nine, by accident, when Sir John 
Suckling, a thistledown fellow, but a knightly and considerable poet in 
his day, had died at twenty-nine, by accident, before him. And if a 
commentator only had thought of it, how suspicious a case might be 
made out against a deserter who dropped his bayonet at Gettysburg, 
when Q. Horatius Flaccus had antedated him, with a shield, at Phi- 
lippi ! Truly, to precedents of transient action we are indifferent. 

The same risks are run time after time ; more than one perished 
upon the enemy^s spears, for the sake of a shouted warning to the 
sleeping camp, or hoped with cheery courage, in the fangs of ship- 
wreck, that Heaven is as near by sea as by land ; yes ! and some sufferer 
after golden-hearted Sidney has passed the untasted water to lips more 
parched than his own. Oh, we can never have too much of that sort 
of repetition ! We say it uplifts, and makes for righteousness,’^ and 
carries urgings to the breast of every generous boy, for instance, who 
studies history. We find it worth while, thinking of him, to adduce 
example on example of the same kind of heroism. If he does not 
hear the deed accredited to some famous leader, he will come across it 
in the piecemeal annals of an obscure state. If he be familiar with 
all its citations, so much the better ; it looks as though magnanimity 
were a common thing, as indeed, secretly, it hath ever been, in that 
dim work-a-day world which looms beyond him. Or, should he sus- 
pect the first venturesome pioneer of glory to have been the inspiration 
and spur of those who followed, is it not very fair and honorable that 
it be so ? that virtue should thus multiply itself again and again, as 
stars are born of the bursting of a star ? 

Just as it was worth while in these old stir-about hearts to repeat 
their fine tragedy, so that, in one way or another, the ideal and influ- 


A LITTLE TREATISE ON PLAGIARISMS. 


787 


ence of it should be made plain to the world, a pleader might contend 
that it is not uncommendable in Mr. Pope to ransack Lucan, Boileau, 
Cowley, and Dryden, and insert their neat and piercing truths, like 
jewels reset, in his own circulatory pages. Moralists take into consider- 
ation, in case of theft of the palpable sort, whether the criminal be in 
dire need of that which he stole : so must we judge the distinguished 
fraternity of literary purveyors. Who know^^ what hitches may have 
interrupted the Essay on Man, or the gallant security — though my 
Lord Byron was no trained pilferer — of Childe Harold itself? Persons 
who write epics have been starved out of all discretion ere the end of a 
week’s interview with the muse. Can sublime pentameters posting on 
towards the amelioration of mankind languish in full sight of a poor 
skeleton’s little coffers ? What a pity to have missed a brave chime 
of modern verse, simply because one of the forgotten choir had pealed 
it out too early ! The art of saying over being the universal art of 
literature, it behooves us to frown down awkward attempts at that 
risky trade, and to wink at any which are clever, and serve a gentle 
use. Surely, it is palliation for Thomas Gray’s extreme of communism 
that his confiscated gem of purest ray serene,” and its sisterly flower 
born to blush unseen,” should bring the thought of hidden beauty to 
thousands who never otherwise would have been consoled with an inkling 
of it. The abominable fallacy that the end justifies the means never 
looks so winning as in this light. 

The miracle is, ultimately, not that we confuse our identities, but 
that our diversity and originality are what they are. With legs of 
proximate length, one walker minces, and another strides ; with climatic 
influences to share with the tenor, the bass still sings bass ; and despite 
the equalizing curriculum of the schools, A. evolves a romancer, and 
B. a geometrician ! In literature, it is thrice wonderful, and yet 
again wonderful, and after that, out of all whooping,” that a human 
being should put forth anything which has not been bandied about for 
centuries. Writers give out, in a large sense, what they take in ; and 
what they take in is as old as the earth, and as broad, and as free to 
the first comer. We each undergo the stupendous sameness of mor- 
tality, and every influence meanwhile, in the air above and the waters 
under, is against an elective course of mind, and for levelling, docking, 
and conforming. 

The prime difficulty with a scrupulous poor dog of an author is to 
keep his head clear in the rush and anxiety of composition, and to be 
sure he carries off no hat nor umbrella besides his own. He wants 
what he believes to be his style and his subject ; those which, at any 
rate, he has grown used to calling his. He has no objection to make 
a parody or modification of another’s work, which is as if, having ap- 
propriated a strange hat, he returns it with a cock’s feather stuck in it by 
way of comment. Over any matter of sober credence liis fancy, without 
irreverence, may choose to frisk. If an Egyptian philosopher has de- 
livered himself of solemn carven theses on the sacred leek, to-morrow’s 
gardener may still evolve a treatise on the onion, or a featherbrain 
may inquire, with mock gravity, into its psychological qualities. But 
in general, our scrupulous gentleman disdains affiliations. His chisel 


788 


A LITTLE TREATISE ON PLAGIARISMS. 


must be no reminder of its betters ; his marble must be virgin from 
the quarry. His is the middle course, however. For the greatest, like 
the forlornest short-sightedest penny-a-liner, have the grace to borrow 
entire statues, and, by the warrant of conquest, to cudgel them into 
shapes of their own. Pascal does it, without a qualm ; Shakespeare has 
no fear of the elder chroniclers in limning his immortal types ; Goethe 
has not so much as a by-your-leave to Kit Marlowe in recapturing 
from him his slight English spoils of the dark- veined legend of Doctor 
Faustus. It behooves genius, perhaps, to be bolder and more swagger- 
ing than your little gracious aptitudes. 

Note the nice degrees of the profession. The real pettiness of pla- 
giarizing lies not so much in confiscating another’s belongings, as in 
disguising or counterfeiting them ; in throwing over them any grace 
or gusto whatsoever, in the hope of disentangling one’s self from sus- 
picion. If there were a law to grapple fitly with such offences, a 
pretty showing the belaurelled crew would make in a police court ! But 
there are robberies so statesmanlike that their recital throws the hearer 
into an enthusiasm. Mr. Breen, in Modern English Literature, its 
Blemishes and Defects,” cites some astonishing ^charges against great 
names from Nodier’s Questions de Litt^rature Legale.” Qu^rard, 
too, affords a lesser list ; M. Langl^s, the Orientalist, stealing his 
Voyage d’Abdoul Rizzac from Galland’s Arabian Nights; Lefebre de 
Villebrune, in his translation of Athenseus, copying six thousand two 
hundred notes from Casaubon’s critical works ; De Saint- Ange, in his 
translation of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, borrowing about fifteen hundred 
verses from Thomas Corneille, and a still greater number from Mal- 
filltoe; Jacques Delille, in his translation of Virgil, his poem of 
1’ Imagination, and other works, appropriating a great number of lines 
from other poets ; Malte Brun, in his famous work on geography, 
literally adopting the remarks of Gosselin, Lacroix, Walckenaer, Pink- 
erton, Puissant, etc. ; Aignan, in his translation of the Iliad, borrow- 
ing twelve hundred verses from a previous translation by Rochefort : 
Castil Blaze transferring to his Dictionary of Modern Music three 
hundred and forty notices from Rousseau’s work on the same subject, 
and all the while abusing the latter for his ignorance of the principles 
of the art; Henri Beyle, under the assumed name of Bombet, pub- 
lishing his well-known letters on Haydn and Italian music, and leav- 
ing the public unacquainted with the fact that he had merely translated 
them from the Italian of Joseph Carpani ; and, lastly, the Count de 
Courchamps palming on the world as the M^moires In^dits de Ca- 
gliostro a series of tales which turned out, after all, to be but a literal 
transcript of a romance published some twenty years before by John 
Potocki, a Polish count.” Now these be, in the main, the sins of 
Thackeray’s Mossoo ;” but they reflect lustre on our common hu- 
manity : calm, courageous invasions of a neighbor’s territory, a brazen 
seizure of castles, and kidnapping of guards and serving-folk ; not leaving 
so much as the family cat on the old hearthstone, or last year’s acorn 
sprouting in promise under my lady’s boudoir casement. There is 
something sinewy, imperial, gothic, in such thefts. And they are out 
of the capability of any but your true artist. 


A LITTLE TREATISE ON PLAGIARISMS. 


789 


Aside from these rank CIiarles-Readean naughtinesses, it is most 
interesting to verify the quasi-genealogy of men of genius, or the odd 
consanguinity between sundered contemporaries. Brahms puts into a 
symphony the thought which Browning puts into a drama, — the same 
lofty vigor, incisiveness, and odd, compelling sweetness of manner. If 
it should strike you betimes that Leigh Huift, one of the most delight- 
some essayists that heaven’s air in this huge rondure hemmed,” bears 
occasionally a strong relationship to Sir Thomas Browne, a very 
different sort of person, how pleasant is it to discover that Hunt some- 
where alludes to the mystical doctor as mine ancestor” ! Now, in 
this same honorable and honoring sense, waiving any recognition of it 
on their own part, Longfellow was somewhat beholden for all that was, 
properly speaking, most his own, to Henry Vaughan ; and Thoreau, 
the indigenous New-Englander,” to the antipodal excellence of Bishop 
Jeremy Taylor: which last is most provable of all paradoxes. We 
may cite a chance line from our Lowell, 

Far-heard thro’ Pyrenean valleys cold, 

or another from Swinburne, 

Thro’ darkness and the disenchanted air, 

and smile, remembering Keats. But these are instances of relationship, 
the negation and happy converse of plagiarism. 

The benison of Donatus, that ingenious saint,” is in many mouths. 
The deuce take them that said our good things before us !” and rises 
to the lips of every vassal of Apollo at some point or other of his 
wearisome road. Sir Walter Scott records the horrified indignation of 
the Ettrick Shepherd, to whom books and pens were equally strange 
fish, at hearing from divers illustrious ancient quartos the self-same 
passages which he had freshly fathered before the world ! 

If there be anything more trying than to discover what is literally 
your soul’s secret figuring abroad, while you were settling down to 
indite every syllable of it, it is to find afterwards a garbled, unsuspected 
version of your theme in a publication antedating your proper works ! 
And the sting of it is that, nine times out of ten, your favorite author 
{optime et dulcissime frater!) thus maltreats you; always in the only 
book of his which you had not read at the hour of your rashness, 
always in language which is yours sweetened, strengthened, and glorified. 
Who would not chafe at the foregone confiscation of titles, even, in- 
volving the suppression of divers charming periods which had to do 
with them ? The remembrance of what we have undergone from the 
tomes of certain extant incomparables makes our blood run backward. 
And, ah ! that it should be your favorite author aforesaid who plays 
you this scurvy trick ! Your attitude is that of a worshipper with his 
red, angry fist in the idol’s face. Your mind is distraught : you salute 
and accuse, love and protest, pray and jeer. How valiantly you could 
have done such and such a thing, and how mean it was of your un- 
grateful god to covet your pathetic little privilege, and to forestall you ! 


790 


A LITTLE TREATISE ON PLAGIARISMS. 


What a burden he makes of your life ! dancing before you at noonday, 
the mocking royal shadow of yourself, an humble citizen ! Beshrew 

the day, (late enough was it, in all conscience !), that ever I 

knew thee. Would that thine elvish pages had been Chinese script, or 
that there had been no King’s English in mine eye ! Best-loved and 
least-read, avaunt ! Thou art crueller than Domitian to his fly. I win 
a toy-battle: behold! mine armory is searched for thy campaign-plans; 
I quench my thirst forty leagues from home, and some jackanapes of a 
critic arresteth me for a drinker at thy fountain ! All that I might 

have been, , be it on thy handsome head ! For it is thou, 

not I, that art the purloiner, if question there be of such things. Ere 
I was I, thou fantastical and incomprehensible spirit, unpurged of thine 
earthly gracelessness, thou didst tamper with my allotted genius, and 
leave in its stead some lame changeling likeness of thine own : for which 
grievous and irremediable wrong I yet must kiss thy kind ghost-hand 
(^^thou smilest, O mine everlasting father!”), even as if I forgave thee. 

Verily, who of the brotherhood can say, word for word with a noble 
forerunner, that his volume, not picked from the leaves of any author, 
was bred amongst the weeds and tares of his own brain” ? For the 
seeds of those very weeds and tares, for aught he knows, were blown 
from an adjacent garden, over the hedge-rows and the wall. The sus- 
picion is maddening. A writer meant to be his own genus and species 
can be easily spoiled by bookishness ; and his lute tinkles but faintly 
amid the din and smithery” of school-learning with which he surrounds 
himself. Nothing happier could befall him than that a friend should 
fire his study-shelves behind him, and set him gaspingly adrift on his 
own brain. Such isolation is a medal of benefit, face and reverse. If 
your scribe retire from reading and from critics altogether, and be not 
distilled forthwith into pure spontaneity and originality, he at least takes 
away from himself the mournful chance of contemplating his likeness 
to other men. He shuts the door on the tragic evidence that his much- 
respected mind is but a chipping of some fine old boulder which 
thundered through the world ages back. He is living a life which an 
obliging gentleman of the Renaissance had already comprised and 
developed ; but in waiving the scholar’s instinct he keeps his innocent 
content. 

Knowledge is but sorrow’s spy : 

’Tis better not to know ! 

The sober truth is that, in a super-Solomonic sense, it is vain to 
sigh for anything new under the sun. And as for literature, the longer 
time lasts, the more appalling must be the prospect for fresh material. 
The day will loom up, not too distant, either, when authors Mongolian, 
Caucasian, and Ethiopian will be seized with kleptomania ; when every 
obsolete poet’s pot of obsolete gold will be burrowed for and rent apart 
by the hard-driven communists ; when the possessive pronouns of art 
will get knocked smartly on the head, when ideas will disperse hourly 
under the auctioneer’s hammer, and the individual pretensions alike of 
Dante and of Mr. Tupper will be ground to powder in some huge 
scrimmage of a comedy. 


A LITTLE TREATISE ON PLAGIARISMS. 


791 


The air is laden with vibrations of bygone voices: the voice of 
Firdusi, maybe, the voice of Theocritus, or that of both strangely 
blended, jarred and re-pitched with distance, but unmistakable; or the 
rude massive voices of antiquity, re-born so fully and so lately that we 
swear them young as youth, and sacred only to the morrow. In the 
parliament of the present, every man represents a constituency of the 
past.’^ We move in the craggy country, whose echoes are never stilled. 
A horn blows on the hill, clear, thrilling, musical ; and we call to the 
coming huntsman. But, lo ! it is only the wafted sound of Roland^s 
horn, broken at Roncesvalles. In these current years of grace, a poet^s 
best must be, in Shelley^s thoughtful phrase, ^^old songs witli new 
gladness.^^ We have to remember sighingly that our standards of origi- 
nality are relative; and the highest praise must be, not that our author 
is a law unto himself, but that his mannerism is suggestive of nothing 
which we can call to mind. But, meanwhile, no one critic carries the 
memory of all literature in his head, and no writer had ever the benefit 
of a coroneFs inquest of all critics. A book plays a lad’s part, and 
rides the lists unchallenged for generations, without a test or an expo- 
sure, or a true spying-out of its withered anatomy. It is a melancholy 
certainty that as our choicest witticisms were old Indian before they 
were new Greek,” so all fine sayings of verse and oratory are fossilifer- 
ous, — if we but knew it ! The blessing of popularity is very shy of 
rare workmanship, and leaves such as Clougli or Hawthorne in the 
lurch ; but antiquities neatly sugar-coated satisfy the real hunger for 
novelties, and get close to the head of that list which no gentleman’s 
library should be without. There is small doubt that Adam, in his 
mellow long bachelorhood, had thought over every theory now con- 
sidered sacred to Kant, or to the whole German bigwiggery; or that 
some mild genius, when Kant and Adam are both passes, will have 
the ancient threadbare visions revealed to him, and will shriek the 
tidings abroad to the wide-mouthed attentive continent. Indeed, we 
have all fallen into a vicious habit of naming such and such a book as 
the product of such and such men and women, whereas we know noth- 
ing about it beyond our own expediencies of speech, as children talk 
of my school” and your street,” and are understood among them- 
selves the world over. Our affectionate applause, our commendation 
and encouragement for the youngest head uprising, is but a tearful 
make-believe for his sake and our own. The angel of literature, too, 
seeing the hoary moss on our novelties, cherishes the promise of neo- 
phytes. Our empire over words is like a banner worn to a threadbare 
fold ; but there is great diversity of character in the handling of it, and 
its storied beauty, borne through dingy cities, is, after all, that which 
keeps a race alive. 

The grim theory that there is no originality somehow fails to work 
out its sequence, that there is no plagiarism ; but tends sooner to prove 
that the latter agreeable alternative is closer and readier than our phi- 
losophy dreams of, being merely a game of perpetual grab at the float- 
ing capital of literature. Or let us say that all art, like the ocean, is 
forever and forever withdrawing and restoring. The third wave of the 
flood-tide may come back to our feet, precisely itself, as the thousandth- 


792 


LIMITATION. 


and-tenth^ unless it be sucked under, rather, of a beautiful blowy morn- 
ing, to reappear on an antipodal coast, in countless absurd partial sprays 
and ripples ; and to be as good as new (yet worthy of adoring wonder, 
being very antique) unto the folk of the far isle. Admitting that matter 
itself is acquired, style, which is the manner of putting the matter, is 
proverbially so. One may ^^give days and nights to the study of Addi- 
son,^^ and make a phrase as one makes a canoe or a spade. But again, 
the germs of noble diction grow otherwise in Arcadia. For there must 
be a style of no study, likewise acquired, but acquired as if by sheer 
healthful exposure to wind and weather ; which is a jolly and labor- 
saving sort of apprenticeship, and greatly to be preferred, if it were of 
mortal choosing. Thrice lucky scribes! We may imagine such coeval 
with ourselves, repaying the gods for this unearned gift given, by 
humble exercise of it, and by fastidious integrity. No boastfulness, 
but a sad chivalry of habit, holds them off from certain library terri- 
tories, from associations, predilections, fair enough to the public sense of 
right. They are no more covetous than they should be. As for true- 
blue plagiarizing, gentlemen of the jury, how shall they have the nerve 
for it ? They stand, like pinafored nurslings at the windows, gaping 
curiously, and with eccentric homage, at the engaging wickednesses of 
street-urchins. The subject of literary piracy has the attraction of 
repulsion for them. Admirable deviltry ! they cry. They watch the 
squadron of thieving pens abroad, now as in every age of this perspic- 
uous planet; they eye them from secure heights with timorous, humorous 
acquiescence ; but to them the crusade appeals not. Let us write them 
and believe them poor, by your leave, but proud ; and in so far as will 
controls these things, their own doggerel rather than Cicero^s translation. 

. Louise Imogen Guiney, 


LIMITATION. 

A S when the imperial bird wide-circling soars 
From his lone eyry, towered above the seas 
That wash the wild and rugged Hebrides, 

A force which he unconsciously adores 
Bounds the majestic flight that heaven explores. 

And droops his haughty wing, — as when the breeze 
Tempts to overleap their changeless boundaries 
The waves that tumble, foaming, to those shores, — 

So thou, my soul ! impatient of restriction. 

With deathless hopes and longings all aglow, 

Aspirest still, and still the stern prediction 

Stays thee, as them, No further shaft thou go 
But, ah ! the eagle feels not thine affliction. 

Nor can the broken waves thy disappointment know. 

Florence Earle Coates. 


THE YELLOW SHADOW. 


793 


THE YELLOW SHADOW. 


I. 

’"KT OT many years ago I was an undergraduate at Cambridge, Eng- 
land. The name of my college I suppress, for obvious reasons. 
Those who knew me then, and saw something of a most curious episode 
of my life, will remember me, and find a clue in this narrative to what 
puzzled them once ; those who did not know me would learn nothing 
from merely personal details. 

St. Anthony’s will do very well for the name of my college, and 
Harold Beaumont for my own name ; or, in the combined and succinct 
form in which I was accustomed to state them to proctors or other 
inquirers, Beaumont of Ant’s.” I spring from an old and highly- 
respected county family, whose founder came over with the Conqueror, 
if not before. Kalph de Beaumont (which was not my ancestor’s real 
name, of course) did not get a title, nor did any of his descendants ; 
and since the family gave up robbing and took to farming they have 
not thriven, on the whole. As the younger son, in a time of agricul- 
tural depression, I could only reckon on a good — that is to say, a uni- 
versity — education ; and had I not been lucky in securing a lucrative 
scholarship, I might have been sent out to Australia or Canada, — 
countries wdiich many English families seem to regard merely as 
convenient places for shooting their waste products. My habits were 
studious and solitary ; without being forced to pinch, I had to be eco- 
nomical. For the rest (not to be tedious), I will say that I was, and 
am still, tall, considered myself not bad-looking, and was admitted by 
all my friends to have a fine taste in neckties. 

One evening in February, in the Lent term of my second year, a 
friend living in the avenue asked me to come in for some whist. We 
played till about eleven o’clock, and then I left the party, to return to 
my college. The avenue is sufficiently dark at all times, and it was 
peculiarly ghostly then from the contrast which the white moonlight 
made with the deep shadows of the houses and the tree-trunks. I can- 
not say that I felt any fear while in that mysterious darkness, but I 
was not sorry to quit it and emerge on the raised foot-path of the 
Trumpington Koad. The night was still and frosty, and the moon- 
light clearer and brighter than I ever remember having seen it. There 
were none of the magical bluish misty lights, the shifting and melting 
shadows born of vapor or wind ; every shade was clear-cut and black 
on the white road, as if inlaid in ebony on ivory. I noticed the dis- 
tinctness of the form that followed my own, — a silhouette from which 
any one who knew my face could have identified me, so plain was the 
profile when I turned my head sideways a little and took off the ob- 
scuring college cap. 

After a while I approached the gas-lamps, which had been very 
needlessly lighted. So strong was the moonlight that only when I 
came close under a lamp-post was the shadow cast by the gas at all 


794 


THE YELLOW SHADOW. 


comparable in depth to the other. I noticed, when I stood near one 
of the lights, how the different tints of the rays caused a contrast in 
the shadows. Those thrown by the moon looked brown ; those cast by 
the lamp were gray and even bluish. Of course I understood the 
reason of this, for even if I had not studied optics I could hardly have 
failed to profit by the instruction so liberally dispensed by a well- 
known firm of soap-advertisers. The yellow rays in the gaslight 
would naturally make the shadow have a bluish tint by contrast ; in 
the same way the bluish white of the moonbeams caused the brown 
shadows, and a strong blue light would of course have resulted in a 
yellow shadow. 

While this reflection was passing through my mind, I happened to 
look down again at my shadow, or rather at my shadows. As I did 
so, a sudden tremor passed through all my limbs. I reeled against the 
railing and clutched it convulsively, for there, stretching from my feet, 
distinct on my path, was a yellow shadow. So plain was its tint and 
outline that it might have been a patch of fresh gravel on the path. 
I tried to disbelieve this strange appearance, — to treat it as a mere 
derangement of the sight ; but it would not follow my eyes when I 
turned them away. I tried hard to think that this was only a shadow 
cast by the moonlight ; but the brown shade thrown by the moon was 
quite plain, lying at right angles to this. Besides, when I first saw 
the shadow it had been between me and the railing ; when I staggered 
against the rail it had wheeled round me quickly, as a passer-by might 
have done to avoid being pressed against the iron or pushed into the 
conduit that runs by the path. Now the Yellow Shadow was quite 
motionless on the white walk, and remained so. 

The cold of the iron rail against my hand roused me from my 
stupor of bewilderment. I set myself resolutely to examine this 
shadow that had attached itself to me. Whether a spectral visitor, or 
an optical illusion, or a mere hallucination due to overwork or bilious- 
ness, it need inspire no dread. If I could not account for it, I could 
at least determine what it looked like. But at the first steady look I 
cast on the yellow patch of shade I started again : it teas not my shadow) 
at all. About the feet it was indistinct, and melted into my own 
shadows, especially that cast by the moonlight ; but the rest of the 
outline, though clearly that of a human form, was as clearly not mine. 
I could distinguish a female head, like a silhouette, upon the path. I 
could see the delicate profile, the profusion of hair loosely knotted 
together behind the head. The shadow of a piece of lace stood out 
upon the curve of the breast, and I could have sworn that I saw it 
stirring. Nearer my feet came the wider shadow of an ample skirt. 
The form was life-size, and in proper proportion. If any one will take 
a figure-subject drawn on white paper, cut out the drawing with scissors, 
and spread the rest of the sheet on a piece of common dull-yellow paste- 
board, he will have an exact reproduction, in miniature, of what I saw. 

After a few minutes spent in gazing at this strange form, I sum- 
moned up courage to walk on a few steps. The Yellow Shadow glided 
on unchanged beside me. As an experiment (now that my curiosity 
was overpowering my dread), I obliqued towards the edge of the road. 


THE YELLOW SHADOW. 


795 


As I did so, the figure swung round me till it came between me and 
the water. I fancied, however, that I could detect a motion of the 
shoulders and a toss of the head, as if to display a petulant disapproval 
of my rudeness. The Shadow, then, had a will and even a temper of 
her own, for I felt compelled to consider the form as that of a woman. 
Again I strove to shake off what I was desperately resolved to consider 
an illusion. I pinched myself hard, but with no result except a bruise. 
Then I turned and deliberately stared at the figure outlined on the 
moonlit path. Oh, horror ! as I looked, the sharply-marked profile 
became blunted and finally effaced, and on each side of the head ap- 
peared the curve of the flowing tresses. I knew that the Shadow had 
turned her face towards me ; I felt that the gaze of unseen eyes was 
upon me. With one wild shriek I dashed off down the road, and, 
wliile running at the top of my speed, looked round at my inexorable 
attendant, still sliding after me in the moonlight, inseparable. Not 
unnaturally, I ran violently into the first person I happened to meet, 
who was a big policeman. We rolled over together in utter confusion ; 
then the practised constable extricated himself and rose, hauling me up 
by the collar. It did not occur to me, however, to regard him other- 
wise than as a friend who might release me from my unwelcome fol- 
lower. Before he could bring his vast mind to bear on the situation, I 
gasped out, Oh, take her away ! take her away 

Take who away inquired he, sternly. What have you been 
a-doing of, then ?” 

lt^s a woman, and I can’t get rid of her !” I stammered. She’s 
following me !” 

That’s rather sing’lar, young man,” remarked the policeman. 

Generally it’s rather the other way with you ’varsity gents. And I 
don’t see no woman, neither. You’ve been a- taking of something, 
that’s where it is.” 

No, there ! look there ! she’s a shadow, — a yellow shadow !” 

The form of my attendant was plainly visible on the pavement 
when I began speaking ; but as I pointed to it the Shadow swung 
quickly round till it coincided in direction with my own shadow as 
thrown by the moon. Thus, though I, with my naturally keen per- 
ception of color sharpened by dread, could see her outline dimly show- 
ing on the brown, it was completely hidden from the dull eyes of an 
incredulous constable. He glanced over the path where I pointed, but 
carelessly, rather to humor my delusion than to see for himself. If the 
Shadow had been perfectly plain he would not have condescended to 
notice her. 

Now, look here, sir,” he said, in a tone of contemptuous pity, as 
he picked up and restored to me my college cap, if you take my advice, 
you’ll go to your rooms very quiet, and get to bed, and if you see any 
yellow shadows to-morrow, then you can come to me again. And if I 
were you, I wouldn’t go rushing round at that pace, a-calling out that 
you’re being followed. Begging your pardon, sir, you don’t look as if 
you could afford to meet old six-and-eightpenny * too often.” 


* The proctors are accustomed to levy fines of this amount and upwards. 


796 


THE YELLOW SHADOW. 


Though this allusion to the proctors, and indeed the whole tone of 
the intelligent officer’s remarks, struck me as disrespectful, I could not 
help feeling that he displayed a certain amount of common sense. I 
thanked him, and bestowed a shilling on him, which he took with an 
air of severe virtue, and as I moved off I could hear him soliloquizing, — 
Well, I’ve known ’em see black dogs and snakes often, and blue 
devils sometimes ; but that’s the first as had a yellow shadow that I 
ever see. P’r’aps it was orange bitters as he sewed himself up with, or 
some stuff as give him the yellow jarnders !” 

I confess that these imputations on my character annoyed me, and 
had I been athletic I could gladly have bonneted and beaten the police- 
man, and even carried off his helmet as a trophy, as I had heard of 
some rowdy men doing ; but considerations of prudence restrained me, 
and I walked on rapidly towards my college. The Shadow was still 
mingled with my own, and sometimes 1 doubted whether there was 
anything but my own shadow there, especially when a browner paving- 
stone broke the whiteness of the path. I had almost brought myself 
to disbelieve in the existence of my attendant, when the three-quarters 
chimed from the church-tower near me. I looked at my watch in- 
stinctively, to see w^hat time remained, and whether it was indeed a 
quarter to twelve ; and when I dropped my glance to the pavement 
again, there was the hateful Yellow Shadow, at right angles to mine, 
distinct in profile, and wdth the lips curved as if in an ironical smile. 

I do not know exactly how I reached the college and rang the bell, 
nor how, when let in, I entered my rooms. I did get there, however, 
and found the fire still alight. I heaped on coals, and soon a bright 
flame sprang up, and sent my shadow dancing over the walls and ceiling 
in every variety of gigantic distortion. But, as I turned, among these 
fantastic visions, clear and distinct on the wall I saw the Yellow Shadow. 
With the calmness of despair I lit my lamp, glancing up from time to 
time at the form of my tormentor. When I had turned up the flame 
as high as I could without smoking the glass, I sat down in a deep 
arm-chair and gazed at the Shadow. She remained perfectly still, as 
if used to being stared at. As far as I could judge from her profile, 
she was young and pretty, — that is, the form that would have corre- 
sponded to hers would have been young and pretty. Her hair was 
luxuriant and wavy, knotted loosely behind, and flowing over her 
shoulders ; she had an exquisite little nose, slightly tip-tilted” (sweet 
epithet, by which the Laureate has earned the love of all turn-up-nosed 
women forever), full, pouting lips, and a chin with much obstinacy in 
its outline. As far as the shadow served me, I conjectured that the 
substance was dressed in some rich, stiff gown, decidedly low in the 
neck, and edged with lace. Her arms were hanging at her side, I sup- 
pose, for I could see nothing of them. A slight protuberance on 
either side of the slender throat seemed to indicate a necklace. As I 
looked still, the lips parted, as if in a sigh, and one bare arm (at least 
I saw no sleeve), on whose exquisite curves I noticed the projection of 
two bracelets, was slowly raised to the head. The hand held what 
looked like a feather-fan ; and the Shadow began moving the image of 
this fan to and fro, as if she found my room close. 


THE YELLOW SHADOW. 


797 


Even in the misery that this persecution caused me (for I felt 
almost convinced that the apparition was an indication of insanity), I 
was amused to see the calm way in which the Yellow Shadow made 
herself at home on my wall ; and, with the coarse jocularity that men 
will sometimes affect in hopeless wretchedness, I exclaimed, aloud, — 

Well, old girl, you seem pretty much at home in these diggings/^ 
The Shadow tossed her head slightly, as if she did not understand 
my speech and did not want to understand it. 

Do you mean to stay here, madam V’ I went on, recklessly. 

She nodded slowly and emphatically. 

In that case,^^ I remarked, ironically, perhaps I can make you 
up a bed on the wall, or get you the shadow of some supper.^^ 

I saw that obscuration of her profile which led me to infer that she 
was turning her face to me or away from me, as I never could be quite 
sure which. Then she shook her head, but in a slow and serious way 
that made me sure she had not appreciated the sarcasm of my speech. 
I conceived a low opinion of her intelligence, which I never afterwards 
saw reason to alter. Certainly she had no sense of humor, — not a 
shadow of it, in fact. 

Then, madam, I resumed, in a tone of polished satire, if you 
do not want anything to eat or to drink or to sleep upon, perhaps you 
will be so good as to tell me what you do want.^^ 

She was quite still, and looked blank, but then she always looked 
blank. 

May I inquire, I went on, with more confidence, whether you 
can talk 

She shook her head, very slowly and sadly, I thought. Evidently 
she felt the deprivation very keenly, though I was rather glad than 
otherwise. Supposing that my Yellow Shadow was not subjective, but 
objective (to speak philosophically), it was a relief to know that she 
could not compromise me by her voice. A vocal shadow, over whom 
one had no control, would be as bad as a baby and considerably worse 
than a cat. However, I wished to establish some means of communi- 
cation with my visitor. She could evidently hear, though she could 
not speak, and she could also see ; but how was she to tell me anything 
but yes’’ or no” ? 

^^Do you know the deaf and dumb alphabet?” I asked; but she 
shook her head, and I remembered that I did not know it either. 
Did she know how to write ? She nodded several times. Could she 
make a mark on anything ? Alas, no ! and, besides, I did not want 
to have my walls scrawled over, just after paying four pounds eighteen 
shillings and ninepence for the paint. 

I meditated deeply for some time, then I started up so suddenly as 
to make the Shadow start. I’ve hit it !” I cried. You write on the 
wall with your finger, and I shall see each letter as you form it, — that 

is, if it is not too much trouble,” I added, politely. She clapped her 
hands with delight on the wall. Then she raised her arm, and I could 
see her writing with her forefinger. I read each letter as she formed 

it, and saw each in imagination for a moment after it was written. She 
wrote an execrable hand, but I could make out the words Oh, that 

Yol. XLI.- 51 


798 


THE YELLOW SHADOW. 


will be brave I may here remark that the Yellow Shadow’s spelling 
was very bad, or (as spelling reformers might think) very good, being 
generally phonetic. 

You will not mind my having coffee?” I asked. She shook her 
head, and I proceeded to brew some. When I looked up from my 
coffee-pot, I could see that she was wishing to attract my notice. 

I beg your pardon, madam,” I said ; I am all attention now,” 
and she wrote, ^^Do the men make coffee for themselves now?” I 
regret that I did not preserve her spelling of coffee it was a curi- 
osity. 

Everybody here drinks coffee for breakfast, and makes it himself, 
madam,” 1 said, politely. 

And how are the coffee-houses doing ?” she asked. Will the 
Lord Chancellor shut them up, as he threatened ?” 

The question, I own, fairly puzzled me. As far as I recollected, 
members of the Government had lately opened coffee-palaces ; and as 
for the Lord Chancellor ! What could she mean ? I told her, as 
politely as I could, that her words conveyed no meaning to me. She 
repeated her question, adding that she had heard that the measure was 
planned in consequence of slanderous speeches about the king. 

A gleam of light broke in on me. I hastily rose and took down a 
volume of Hallam, and turned to th3 index. As I thought, the chan- 
cellor in question was Lord Clarendon, and the king, Charles II. I 
tried to explain to my visitor that the king and his minister had both 
been dead a considerable time ; indeed, I was proceeding in a concise 
manner to give an account of what had happened in the interval, when 
the Shadow turned her back on me — at least I am nearly sure it was 
her back — and put both hands to her ears. Then, when I had stopped 
talking, she turned, and traced on the wall a hasty scrawl from which 
I gathered that she did not want what she called sirmans.” Obvi- 
ously, the Yellow Shadow was not amenable to education. She had no 
depth of character. 

It might be possible, however, I thought, to gain some useful in- 
formation from her. I might utilize her as a sort of Pepys’s Diary, to 
draw from at will. Her very frivolity would make her testimoriy more 
trustworthy ; she could not invent anything. So I asked her politely (I 
am always polite) what her name w^as, and where she had lived. She 
wrote down Barbara Beaumont.” The date of her death she had 
forgotten, — or at least her shadow had ; but I gathered from her sub- 
sequent statements that she died of the plague when only twenty years 
old, and thus I was able to fix her date approximately. I confess that 
I was disappointed to hear how early in the reign she had died. I re- 
membered, now, something that an old aunt had once told me about 
Mistress Barbara, daughter of Roger Beaumont, a stanch Cavalier 
nearly ruined by the Commonwealth and little bettered by the Restora- 
tion. Barbara, my aunt said, was the hope of the family then, and her 
early death destroyed their prospects entirely. She had been very 
pretty, to judge from her picture, with which the Shadow agreed. If 
she had not taken the plague, my aunt used to tell me, I might now be 
a connection of a ducal family. The thought of what I had lost by 


THE YELLOW SHADOW. 799 

my distant relative’s imprudence was indeed bitter ; but I recognized, 
with my accustomed fairness, that it was not her fault. 

It was some time before I could determine whether I myself was 
descended from Roger Beaumont or his brother Ralph ; but I decided 
for Ralph. It was awkward to be haunted by a family Shadow ; but, 
on the whole, it was pleasanter to consider her as a cousin than as an 
aunt. So I informed her that we were cousins, — how many, or how 
far removed, I could not venture to estimate. ‘‘ Then,” she instantly 
wrote down, you can call me Bab, if we are cosens” — that was her 
way of spelling it. This fondness for going by a short pet name struck 
me as curiously like what I had seen and heard of spirits at stances. 
They generally went by childish nicknames, they seemed painfully friv- 
olous, and wrote and spelt as badly as the mediums themselves. I 
could not help noting this strong agreement, as proving at once the 
truth of spiritualism and the genuineness of my own family shadow. 

The conversation that ensued between Bab and myself needs no 
reporting at length. In spite of the coffee, I was sleepy, and said little 
that was worthy of preservation, and Bab’s talk was decidedly vapid. 
Two centuries make small-talk seem very stale. My most brilliant 
repartees (when I roused myself) fell flat on her. Once, I remember, 
she was trying, without much success, to recall a song composed in 
honor of her pretty nose by a French gentleman at the court. The 
burden of the strain was some insipid doggerel about ce nez migyioriy^ 
which she kept on writing when she could not recollect the rest. At 
the seventh repetition, I suggested, with delicate humor, Ah, ^ 3Iignon 
aspirant au del^ I suppose.” She did not understand the allusion, of 
course, and thought I had meant to be rude ; and, while striving to 
appease her, I fell asleep in my arm-chair, somewhere about four in the 
morning. 

II. 

At seven o’clock my bedmaker, coming in to light my fire, was so 
astonished at seeing me slumbering in the chair, that she dropped her 
dust-pan with a crash that awoke me. I rubbed my eyes, and then 
looked round anxiously, as I remembered the vision of the last night, 
or, to speak strictly, of that morning. I could not see the Yellow 
Shadow anywhere about the room. There were yellowish patches 
enough on the worn green carpet, alas ! but none of them had a human 
shape. The relief was immense ; it was only some wild dream, after 
all, and my kinswoman Bab’s apparition was still — well, wherever it 
ought to be. I told my bedmaker, cheerfully, that I had been reading 
late, and had gone to sleep in my chair ; and I ordered the unaccus- 
tomed extravagance of scalloped oysters for breakfast, as an outlet to 
my reckless joy. Then I went to my bedroom to get a bath ; but as 
my hand was on the door I heard Mrs. Scroggins calling to me. 

I beg your pardon, sir,” she said, but shall I leave this book 
on the table or put it away ?” I glanced at the book in her hand : it 
was a volume of Hallam’s Constitutional History. The old dread 
mastered me again for a moment. Was it possible that I had taken 
out the book in my sleep, as a part of my fevered dream ? The leaf 


800 


THE YELLOW SHADOW. 


was still turned down at the reference to coffee-houses. I made some 
answer and fled to my bedroom, where I hastily plunged my head into 
a basin of icy water. 

The morning passed with no return of my trouble, and, as I worked 
away at a problem paper, I became more and more convinced that Bar- 
bara was all a dream. The sleep in which I supposed myself to have 
seen and talked to the Shadow did not seem to have rested me, for I 
was dull and heavy and could not work as well as usual ; but this I 
attributed to sleeping in a chair and in a cold room. The dream, I 
thought, could be utilized as the basis of a contribution for the Myth- 
ical Society, of which a branch had recently been founded at Cambridge. 

After my usual day’s work, I went to bed early, and, being tired, 
fell asleep at once and did not wake till eight the next morning. I saw 
nothing of Mistress Barbara, and felt quite sure now that she was but 
an illusion. So it was with a light heart that I did my papers and 
took my constitutional grind and without any forebodings, when I 
found myself without postage-stamps, I sallied forth to get some at 
about half-past nine in the evening, and returned by a round through 
the town, as I felt tired of working. At the corner of a street my at- 
tention was aroused by a great noise. Certain members of the uni- 
versity, having dined and wined not wisely, but too well, were enliven- 
ing their return to their colleges by a song and the blasts of a horn. 
Suddenly arose a warning cry of Proctor !” and round a turn in the 
street came a portly don, with a little head and a big beard, the mystic 
bands shining at his throat in the moonlight. He was followed by his 
faithful attendants, the bull-dogs,” in their many-buttoned livery. 
Then there was a stampede, a chase, a taking of names and colleges ; 
all which I beheld with the calmness of conscious rectitude. I had my 
cap and gown on, I was strictly sober, I was not driving tandem or 
four-in-hand, having dealings with money-lenders, or doing anytliing 
prohibited by the university statutes. As I was reflecting with pardon- 
able complacency on my blameless character, I happened to look down, 
and there, at my feet, was the Yellow Shadow, distinct as ever. Her 
face was in profile, and I could see that she was pouting and angry. 
She was beckoning with her finger, and when she saw that I was look- 
ing she wrote on the moonlit pavement, Why did you not watch for 
me last night? I am not used to be slighted so. You must take me 
to the play now, or I shall never forgive you.” 

Really, Bab !” I exclaimed, — or perhaps I used a stronger phrase, 
— you are very tiresome. I have no time to go with you now ; and, 
besides, you are much earlier than you were before. Can’t you let me 
alone?” I spoke hastily, and not very politely; but the shock of this 
renewed persecution, which I could no longer regard as a dream, was 
enough to make any man lose his temper. 

Your name and college, sir, if you please,” said a pompous voice 
at my elbow, and I saw the proctor. He did not wait for the answer, 
but stepped to the street-corner near vrhich I was standing and peered 
round it. She’s hidden away somewhere cleverly !” he muttered ; 
but I know her.” 

I could not help laughing, as I began to have an inkling of his 


THE YELhOW SHADOW. 801 

absurd mistake. He turned angrily upon me, and repeated, 
sir, your name and college I lost my temper at this. 

^‘My name is Beaumont of Ant^s, as you know very well, Mr. 
Smithson,^^ I said ; and may I inquire why you should feel it neces- 
sary to ask so needless a question 

‘‘ AVhy, really he puffed ; didAt I see you and hear you talking 
to a girl just now, and did she not run away as soon as she saw me 
coming? and you ask me why? Still, you have a good character, I 
know, and if you can explain it I shall be glad, — if you come to me 
to-morrow.^^ 

While he was speaking, I had reflected, and I felt assured that the 
only way to save my reputation was to disclose the whole story. Mr. 
Smithson was a light of the Mythical Society ; and if I could once make 
him believe in the apparition, he would not only excuse, but lionize me. 
Only I must show him the Yellow Shadow to convince him, and Barbara 
had retired into my own shade as cast by the moonlight, and was not 
easily to be distinguished. Still, I felt I must try this resource. I 
could not justify myself next day, for she only appeared at night. 

Sir,^^ I said, ‘^1 will tell you all now, if you can wait five minutes. 
You did not see anybody with me just now, did you?^^ 

Don^t try quibbling,^^ he answered, sharply ; it won’t go down 
with me, I saw her shadow round the corner, and I heard you talking 
to her and calling her Bab, or Baby, or something. Isn’t that enough ? 
Why isn’t she here now, if it is all right?” 

She is here,” I said, and the shadow you saw is all of her that I 
have ever seen myself.” 

^^Do you take me for a fool?” he asked, roughly. ^^You had 
better wait till to-morrow ; you are only making matters worse. Good- 
night.” 

Stop, please !” I entreated, catching him by the sleeve. Send 
your bull-dogs to the end of the street, and I will show her.” 

His curiosity triumphed, as I had hoped ; and he sent away his 
satellites, and stood fidgeting from foot to foot. Now, then, Beau- 
mont,” he said, produce her, quickly ; not that I believe for a moment 
you can, you know.” 

Cousin Barbara,” I asked, in my sweetest tones, please come out 
and be introduced to this gentleman. You will like him very much, I 
am sure.” 

She was sulky and would not come out, and I could see that the 
proctor was growing more impatient and incredulous. 

Barbara,” I said, solemnly, you know that you wanted to go to 
the play. Well, if you won’t come out, I will nevei^ take you : there !” 

Still she remained hidden, and I resolved upon severe and desperate 
measures. 

Bab,” I said, sternly, if you don’t come out this instant, I shall 
be turned out of my college, and in that case I shall migrate to Corpus, 
and” (I added, with deadly emphasis) there I can and will attend six 
religious meetings every night !” 

This threat was perhaps a little exaggerated; but she could not 
know that. It was calculated to appall the most frivolous, and it 


802 


THE YELLOW SHADOW, 


frightened her. Slowly and reluctantly she swung round at right 
angles to my shadow, and lay on the pavement, right under the proctor’s 
nose. He jumped back and got behind a lamp-post, exclaiming, Bless 
my soul !” then, recovering himself, said, with a forced laugh, I beg 
your pardon, madame : I had to get out of your way rather suddenly. 
— And do you mean to say, Beaumont, that this shadow follows you 
every night ? You must come to the Mythical next meeting and bring 
her. I suppose she’s quite harmless, and doesn’t forebode anything?” 

I assured him, as soon as he would wait for an answer, that she was 
entirely harmless, and only tiresome. As for foreboding anything, she 
could never pass the elementary examination for the degree of Banshee, 
I was sure. 

Then, if you don’t care to come to the Society yourself,” he said, 
eagerly, do you suppose she would go with me f Signora Bavardi is 
coming, and we want to have something to shov/ her.” 

I was about to ask the Shadow, when she scrawled on the pavement 
a no,” in letters fully two feet high, — that is to say, long. 

She declines,” I said : you see, I think she can only go with a 
relative, — a Beaumont.” 

Oh, that’s the reason, then,” he exclaimed, his face brightening 
again. Of course it must be the reason : what else could it be ? 
Now, my dear boy, I must be going on my rounds ; come with me and 
tell me all about how you got this Shadow.” 

He hooked his arm in mine and dragged me off, regardless of his 
dignity ; but I noticed with pain that whenever he was not looking at 
Barbara she appeared to be making faces at him, — or at least distorting 
her profile in a very strange way. 

HI. 

I prefer to pass over rapidly the events of the next few days and 
nights. The Shadow came to me every evening, about nine, or earlier, 
— as soon as she could get away,” she said, — but she never would 
tell me where she came from, or why she only came at night. She 
would keep me awake to talk to her, night after night, — the most pitiful 
small-talk I ever knew. Unless I could fall asleep before she came, it 
was hopeless to get any rest until too weary to keep awake. At first 
I stayed up from politeness, and a sense that doubtless my poor cousin 
found her other existence very dull and needed a little relaxation. But 
even my courtesy was not inexhaustible ; and as my work was suffering 
from the late hours I kept, and from the numerous entertainments to 
which the Shadow insisted on being taken, I had to try going to bed 
very early. This, however, did not answer for long ; Barbara was at 
first puzzled by the ruse, but must soon have taken advice on the subject. 
Who helped her, I cannot of course say, but I felt convinced she could 
not have devised her measures by herself. I was peacefully sleeping, 
one night, forgetful of my persecutor, when a furious knocking at my 
outer door aroused me. It was only ten o’clock, but I had retired early 
to avoid my visitor. I hurried on a few things and rushed to open my 
door. There stood Bolton, a usually very quiet undergraduate who 
kept in the rooms under mine. He seemed greatly excit^. 


THE YELLOW SHADOW. 803 

I say, Beaumont, he exclaimed, what on earth have you bden 
doing up here to make such a mess on your floor 

I was bewildered, and asked him what he meant. 

Why,^^ he said, there^s a great yellow stain on the ceiling of my 
room ; and I doif t care to have my place spoilt because you take to 
spilling chemicals.^^ 

What is the stain like?^^ I asked. 

Oh, a big, dull-yellow patch, like damp, something, — a curious 
shape, too, just like the shadow of a woman.^^ 

I very nearly fainted. This, then, was the diabolical plot to wake 
me. Bab, apparently, was projected on to my floor, as a shadow, from 
below , — a fact which was not reassuring; and, as my bedroom was just 
over Bolton^s sitting-room, she had stopped on his ceiling, before reach- 
ing my carpet, and had thus impelled him to call me up. It was no use 
trying to avoid the nightly interview any more. I went down with 
Bolton, despairingly, and of course found, when I reached his room, 
that the Shadow had disappeared from his ceiling and left it a blank. 
I could still see her tangled up with my own shadow on the carpet ; 
but he did not think of looking there. 

^^Well, I never said Bolton, in blank amazement. ^^It^s gone 
now, and I could have sworn I saw it f ^ 

You must be bilious,’^ I suggested; ^Hhat makes you see yellow 
spots on things.^^ 

Perhaps so,’^ said he, and I could see he regarded my explanation 
with distrust ; but if I see it again I shall certainly come up to your 
rooms and stop it somehow. Good-night.’^ And he slammed his door 
viciously. 

After this I surrendered at discretion. Bab would not tell me who 
put her up to arousing Bolton, but she said, with a threatening air, that 
she would do it again if I tried going to sleep early ; and if that did not 
answer, she would try something else. It was quite enough for me ; 
I yielded to her wishes. I took her to the play whenever there was a 
performance at Cambridge ; I went to dinners given by rather fast men, 
and had to give dinners in return. I kept away from the concerts, 
because she did not appreciate Brahms, and there was little else. My 
work fell off ; I became tired and jaded, worn out by want of rest and 
the labor of talking in answer to the depressing frivolities of the Yellow 
Shadow. Friends who had freely taken five to two about my chances 
of the Senior Wranglership now began to hedge. Barbara could not 
and would not do anything for my comfort ; she possessed all the dis- 
advantages, and none of the advantages, of a wife, for me. I began to 
look forward with anxiety to the approaching meeting of the Mythical 
Society, — not that I wanted to show off my Shadow, as I had once 
foolishly thought of doing, but because I felt a hope that among so 
many learned men, all on intimate terms with ghosts, I should find one 
at least who could free me from my tormentor. Surely the mighty 
Signora Bavardi herself could exorcise the Shadow, — spirit her away, 
transmigrate her into another shape, reduce her to an astral body, or in 
some way make her inoffensive. 

So it was with reviving confidence that I sought the rooms where 


804 


THE YELLOW SHADOW. 


the society was to meet. I was early, and the Yellow Shadow had not 
yet come to attend me. My friend the proctor had wanted to put a 
special announcement of this new attraction in the notices sent round, 
but, knowing Barbara’s uncertain temper and habits, I dissuaded him. 

Suppose,” I said, ^Hhe new attraction did not come off satis- 
factorily : what should we do ?” 

My dear boy,” he answered, our experiments never do come 
off : so that is nothing.” 

However, he was overruled. 

When I reached the place of meeting it was half full of men, 
mostly undergraduates, talking in little groups, some believing, some 
sceptical, some inquiring and impartial. The ubiquitous Mr. Smithson 
swung in and out of these groups like a humming-top, always return- 
ing to the knot of grave professors and clergymen that surrounded 
Signora Bavardi, who, so far as I could see, was engaged in smoking 
cigarettes and looking oracular. 

I need not describe the meeting, except as regards my own share in 
it. The Sibyl of the evening delivered a sort of lecture expounding 
occult doctrines, which to me, at least, were rather more occult after 
her explanation than before it. I cannot say, however, that I listened 
with any great care. I was waiting anxiously for Barbara, who was 
unusually late. The speech of Signora Bavardi was over, and the 
professors were asking her questions and urging her to perform some of 
the wonders of which she had boasted. She did not seem to take very 
kindly to these proposals, but at last arranged (as far as I could hear) 
to send a spirit message to an adept in Calcutta, which was to be 
answered by telegraph from that city, the cost of the telegram to be 
paid by the society. Then began a very lively discussion about the 
terms of the message, and while this was at its height I suddenly felt 
the little nerVous thrill that proclaimed Bab’s presence. I looked down 
and saw her, though mingled with my own shadow so as not to be 
easily detected. She only put out one hand on a clear space of floor 
where the lamplight fell, and wrote, Why have you come here ? Is 
it a Conventickle [s2c] of Fanaticks ?” 

No, Bab,” I whispered, the general hum of conversation cover- 
ing my voice ; these gentlemen have come here on purpose to see you 
and talk to you, if you will only come out on the wall and show your- 
self. You are looking so pretty to-night.” I had found that flattery, 
it mattered not how gross, was the only method of managing the 
Yellow Shadow. She wavered perceptibly. 

What shall I have to do ?” she asked. 

Only come out on the wall,” I repeated, and talk to the pro- 
fessors here and that lady.” 

I had rather talk with the young men,” she wrote, sulkily. 

Well, you shall, afterwards,” I murmured, though I Avas pretty 
sure that the committee would engross the Shadow as much as possible. 

So Barbara came out, slowly and shrinkingly. I was seated close 
by the wall of the room, where the light of a hanging oil-lamp was 
shed on a space clear of ornaments or furniture ; and thus the Shadow 
had a field to display her elegant outline. Much as I longed to get 


THE YELLOW SHADOW. 


805 


rid of her, I could not help feeling proud of her appearance. As she 
became more distinct, a man sitting near me happened to look that 
way and noticed her. He called the attention of his neighbors, till 
in a few seconds half the audience were turning to stare at the ap- 
parition. Now was the time for me to seek the help of the prophetess. 
I rose, and the Shadow rose also on the wall. 

Signora Bavardi, and gentlemen of the committee, I said, in a 
loud voice that stopped the wrangle over the wording of the tele- 
pathic^^ message, would you kindly look this way ? This society, I 
believe, examines into all cases of ghostly appearances, but thus far, 
I think, it has only got within two generations of reliable ghosts. 
Here is a Shadow, gentlemen, which — 1 beg her pardon, who — will be 
glad to converse with any one. Allow me to introduce her to you. 
Signora Bavardi, Mistress Barbara Beaumont, my cousin, of the time 
of Charles 

The Sibyl bowed, and Bab gave a frigid little nod. Signora Bavardi 
turned to me, asking me in French, with a rather frightened air, wdiat 
she had better say. Meanwhile the Shadow, unabashed, had begun to 
write on the wall with her finger. I was not looking myself, but I 
heard an explosion of laughter from some of the undergraduates. I 
was told afterwards that Barbara was tenderly inquiring about Signor 
Bavardi. 

I was rather disheartened at the occult lady^s apprehensive look. 
All Italians, however advanced^^ in thought, have a reserve of sur 
perstition somewhere in their hearts. I was afraid that if I spoke 
French Barbara would understand me, so I merely wrote on a card in 
pencil, Say anything, only please try to get rid of her. She pesters 
me.^^ It was a hasty and ill-judged act. As Signora Bavardi took the 
card from me, she dropped it on the floor. Mr. Smithson was stand- 
ing by, explaining the Shadow to his friends, and he at once stooped 
and officiously picked up my card. Shall I read it, signora V’ he 
asked : I think I am more used to my young friend’s handwriting 
than you.” 

Very well,” said the Occultist, and, in spite of my frenzied appeals 
to him, Mr. Smithson read out the fatal words. The mischief was 
done. The Yellow Shadow went into the most fearful passion I have 
ever seen, or at least the most conspicuously fearful passion ; for with 
her every feeling came to the surface ; there was nothing else for it to 
come to. She abused and threatened me in a way that made my hair 
stand on end ; and the deliberation with which she was forced to express 
herself on the wall enabled her to choose her epithets with some felicity. 
Then, as I did not answer, but sat bowed down with shame and fear, 
no longer even daring to look at the wall, but hearing the laughter that 
followed each sentence as she wrote it, she turned her wrath on Signora 
Bavardi. Did I think, she asked, that I could get rid of her by the 
help of an old frump that smoakes tobacko ?” Those were her very 
words, and of course her spelling made the speech all the more piquant. 

This was too much, not unnaturally, for the prophetess. To sit 
silent under abuse from a shadow is more than can be expected of any 
woman. The scolding-match that followed was indescribable. I would 


806 


THE YELLOW SHADOW. 


not reproduce it, even if I could, for tlie court language of the Restora- 
tion was not by any means remarkable for refinement, and even Signora 
Bavardi showed an extensive acquaintance with idiomatic English and 
still more idiomatic French. The contest had this unique advantage, 
that although, of course, both ladies were talking all the time, one 
spoke while the other wrote, so that the audience could follow both at 
the same moment. Their bursts of laughter formed one continuous 
roar. 

In the thick of the conflict, a telegraph-boy, probably tired of 
knocking unheard, opened the door. He must have thought he had 
come to a lunatic-asylum ; but he did his duty unmoved, and his shrill, 
strident voice rang through the tumult like a bugle- call, as he asked 
for the secretary. Signora Bavardi turned pale and tried to reach the 
boy. It is a mistake, — a private telegram for me she said ; but 
already the secretary had torn open the envelope, and read the message 
aloud in the sudden stillness. Barbara was still wildly gesticulating, 
but no one noticed her now. 

^^‘From Kootan Koomaguen, Calcutta, to the Mythical Society, 
Cambridge,^ read the secretary. ‘ Your message received. Truth 

conquers space^ He was about to read further, when a clamor 

arose among the committee. 

Why, we never sent that spirit message off at all cried one. 

We hadn’t even settled the wording,” bellowed another. It’s a 
fraud !” It’s a sham !” roared several. 

Signora Bavardi turned at bay, and raised her hand. Only hear 
me !” she shrieked, and I will explain it all.” The committee was 
silent, and all eyes were fixed on her. I must say I admired her at 
that moment. 

You know,” she said, that Calcutta is many thousand miles 
to the east of us, and of course if a telegram is sent from there Ave 
must get it long before the hour when it leaves.” The audience mur- 
mured assent. 

But then,” she went on, boldly, of course the spirit message 
would be sent and received at the same moment, and answered imme- 
diately, so that we should get the answer before we sent ” 

Thus far she had been heard ; but the instant that the drift of her 
argument was apparent, a howling, roaring tornado of laughter swept 
through the room. Every lamp, every candle, was extinguished in a 
moment. I wonder the very windows were not shattered. Then all 
was chaos. How I reached my rooms, what became of Signora Ba- 
vardi, how any one escaped alive, I never knew, nor could any one 
afterwards say precisely what had happened. 


IV. 

My life with Barbara before the Mythical meeting (whose record is 
not to be found in the Society’s archives) was bad enough ; but it was 
Paradise to what followed. It was not merely that she called me all 
manner of names whenever I looked at her, but the sense that I was 
pursued by the enmity of a reckless woman, backed up, I felt sure, by 


THE YELLOW SHADOW. 


807 


the malignity of some one more inteliigent than herself, was gradually 
driving me mad. I could not work, or row, or even take walks, but 
spent my days in dozing over the fire in a miserable state of nervous 
depression, which changed to a deeper gloom as the night drew on and 
brought my torment nearer. 

Had the persecution gone on, I must have been utterly wrecked ; but 
my deliverance was near, and, singularly enough, it was suggested to 
me by Barbara herself. One night I had been sitting silent and spirit- 
less, watching her calling me names on the wall. At last, provoked 
by my silence, she wrote, Why are you moping there ? Lord ! if I 
had a real man to talk to 

Oh, Bab V’ I exclaimed, as a gleam of hope shot across my mind, 
would you like to go with some one else 

She shrugged her shoulders contemptuously. 

Would I not she said. But you are the only Beaumont I can 
go to, a murrain on you.’^ 

I may say that my elder brother was married, and, from what I 
know of my sister-in-law, I do not wonder that Barbara was afraid of 
attaching herself to him in preference to me. 

^‘But, Barbara,^^ I suggested, humbly, ‘‘1 have a cousin up here 
now, — George Beaumont, who is a distant relation of yours, too ; and 
he is such an agreeable fellow. I am sure you would like to go with 
him.^^ 

Bab was very suspicious of this plan, and I hardly wondered at 
her distrust, after my attempts to get rid of her. However, at last I 
induced her to give my cousin George a trial, and, if he suited her, she 
would try to change to him ; for anything,^^ she wrote, would be 
better than you.’^ 

I spent several hours of that evening in observing the exact shade 
of yellow that Barbara appeared to be on a white ground, and suc- 
ceeded in imitating it very nearly. Next day I went and induced a 
lamp-maker to send me in on trial an extremely powerful lamp, for I 
did not want to be at too much expense even in getting rid of the 
Shadow. Then I managed, with great difficulty, to obtain an assort- 
ment of blue-glass globes of various shades, under the plea that they 
were necessary for my eyes; and I persevered with these until by 
dexterous adjustment I had succeeded in throwing a shadow that looked 
(by contrast) of the same tint and depth as the Yellow Shadow herself. 
My aim was to make my shadow and my cousin George’s exactly like 
Barbara, and thus enable her to change from one to the other. After 
we had thus been reduced to a common denominator, so to speak, ad- 
dition and subtraction could take place. Last I asked George to come 
in and see me after hall,* and got in some mulled claret and cigarettes 
for him. 

My cousin George was, on the whole, a decent sort of young fellow, 
but he was possessed with a desire for being thought a fast and even a 
rowdy man. Thus, while a subject of pious horror among the saints 
of his college, he was a continual source of ribald mirth to the real 


* That is, after dinner in the college hall. 


808 


THE YELLOW SHADOW. 


reprobates. He never got drunk but once, and that I ascribe solely to his 
extreme weakness of head. He published a thin pamphlet of verses, 
w^hich, according to his account of them, were to prove simply Satanic ; 
and when they appeared (under another name) they were solely re- 
markable for their pitiful and abject futility. But Bab, I knew, could 
only take a superficial view of things, and would accept George on his 
own valuation. 

Everything turned out well, and just as I had planned. George 
was soon excited by the claret, and talked bigger than I had ever heard 
even him talk. I blushed for our family when I heard the fellow^s 
monstrous lies. None of the gallants of the Merry Monarches court 
could ever have rivalled in fact the imaginary delinquencies of this 
poor, limp little undergraduate. He had drunk of every vintage, 
gambled at every game, betted on every race. All women were in 
love with him, even the daughters of masters of colleges had begun to 
ogle him, and Girton and Newnham languished for him. He even 
detailed a duel fought at Boulogne, in which he had shot a fire-eating 
count through the body. I felt sure he had never got nearer to France 
than Margate, or perhaps Broadstairs ; and as for shooting — why, an 
elephant would have been safe from him at ten paces. 

But Barbara took it all in, I knew. She remained demurely hidden 
in my own shadow ; but sometimes she would start out in eagerness as 
George told of some especially brilliant adventure, and then subside as 
I looked at her warningly. I could see her pretty well, for I had left 
the new lamp with a white globe. 

At last the hand of my clock marked twenty minutes to ten, and 
my cousin — George, I mean — rose, and said he must be going. The 
hour had come at length. Feverish Avith anxiety, I looked inquiringly 
at Barbara. She nodded twice, distinctly. 

I say, George, I remarked, in a tone that would not sound care- 
less, have you seen these new blue shades for lamps ? My doctor 
says they are very good for the eyes.^^ 

I put on my selected globe as I spoke. An intense blue light suc- 
ceeded to the white glare, and I saw with a thrill of delight that my 
shadow and George^s and all the shadows in the room Avere indis- 
tinguishable from Barbara. The lamp had no effect on her shade of 
yelloAV, for wherever the light was that projected her on my floor, it 
was certainly not above. 

George came close to the lamp to see the make of it, AAdiich I 
praised as something extraordinary. I was just behind him, leaning 
over him, and almost treading on his heels in my anxiety to be near 
enough. Then, on some pretext, I moved quickly round to the other 
side of the table, and took off the blue globe. A pang of disappoint- 
ment shot through me as I noticed that Bab was still attached to me, 
much to her own disgust, no doubt. All Avas in \^ain, then. My perse- 
cutor could not leave me even if she wanted. 

As my cousin George again turned to go, a sudden thought struck 
me. I would try every measure before I would despair. I looked 
down at his feet, and in a second had formed my plan. 

George, I said, flippantly, where on earth do you buy your 


THE YELLOW SHADOW. 809 

shoes ? I think I shall get a pair from that shop for foot-ball matches. 
I never saw such enormous dumpers.’^ 

This was extremely rude on my part, and I knew it ; but desperate 
men do not stop to regard courtesy. Beside, his shoes were clumsy, 
and a very seedy pair too. George was richer than I, but, in spite of 
his boasted extravagance, he was not fond of spending money when he 
could help it. Yet he was proud of his small feet, — a peculiarity of 
the Beaunaonts. 

Theyh^e no bigger than your own he replied, curtly, and with 
some excusable temper. 

Come, come, George,’^ I said, in a bantering tone, you won’t get 
me to believe that 

What will you bet ?” asked he. 

Well, you know I never bet,” I answered ; but if you can put 
my shoes on now and get back to your rooms in them you can keep 
them, — and your own too, for the matter of that.” As I spoke, I re- 
placed the blue globe over the lamp. 

I saw George’s eyes light up with pleasant anticipation. I went up 
close to him, and stood with a hand on his shoulder to keep my balance 
while I kicked off my shoes. Then I sprang quickly back, and threw 
myself on the sofa, with my feet off the ground, while he proceeded to 
take off his own foot-gear and put on mine. They were new, and 
pinched him, I felt sure ; but he walked resolutely to the door. As 
he did so, I started up and tore off the blue globe. Oh, joy ! as he 
moved, I could distinctly see the Yellow Shadow following him, and 
wheeling into his own, when he turned, so as to escape observation. 

He said good-night, and went out, stepping rather gingerly, I 
thought. After shutting the inner door, he was some time fumbling 
with the outer, and Barbara was still in my room, as far as her kne^, 
— the rest was on the other side of the threshold. She wrote Adew,” 
and courtesied in a mocking way. Then, as he stumbled off, she slid 
away under the door. Her skirt disappeared, then her waist, then her 
shoulders, and the pretty head ; and lastly went one hand, — whether 
right or left I could not tell, — which waved a farewell as the tips of the 
fingers passed out of sight. It was the last I ever saw of Bab. 

When I had heard the sound of George’s steps die away down the 
stairs, I sprang up and danced a wild fling in my stockings, at the risk 
of bringing Bolton up again. Then I finished the claret at one draught, 
made and drank six cups of tea, read thirty pages of Spherical Har- 
monics, and went to bed in the most blissfully happy state I have ever 
known. 

My tale is told. It only remains to say what has become of the 
actors in this strange drama. For myself, I have never been troubled 
since then with shadows, — yellow or otherwise. I regained all my 
power of work, and was Senior Wrangler in due course. I was made a 
Fellow, and hope to be some day bursar of St. Anthony’s. As for 
Barbara, — alas, poor Shadow ! I am sorry for her fate, though she did 
nearly ruin my prospects. It was some days before George discovered 
her attendance on him at night ; for, in spite of his bragging, he kept 
very early hours. When he did find out her presence, he was smitten 


810 


PRINCESS BADOVRA. 


with abject terror, and thought that this visitation was a judgment on 
his wickedness. He certainly deserved some punishment for being such 
a liar ; but I never heard of his doing anything else that was wrong. 
As for crimes, he was absolutely incapable of them. 

He fled for help to his college dean ; and when he could not obtain 
relief from that bewildered official, who had only taken orders so as to 
be made dean, he became desperate, and joined the local corps of the 
Abduction Army. After attending two meetings, he found relief, and 
was never after troubled by his distant aunt or cousin, the Yellow 
Shadow. I do not wonder at this ; for the ladies of Charles II.^s court, 
whatever frailties they might have, were always sound Churchwomen, — 
except when they turned Roman Catholic. Bab never came back to me 
when she deserted George : perhaps she would not, or more probably she 
could not. It was her only chance, I fear ; and I am sorry she had so 
dull a holiday. When my cousin Captain’^ George was freed from 
his spectral follower, and had ceased to apprehend any fresh visit from 
her, he wanted to leave his company f but the army had got him, 
and kept him, and he had not the strength of mind to quit it. To this 
day I occasionally see him advertised on hoardings as Cambridge 
George, the Happy Undergraduate f and from the reports of his ad- 
dresses in the War-Whoop I should say that he must be almost as 
great a liar now as when 1 knew him. Of course, as a Beaumont, I 
cannot know him now. 

Henry Doone, 


PRINCESS BADOURA. 


HEIGHT is regent of the sky ; 
Jl\ All is still in Ispahan. 

On the veined pomegranate-leaves 
That the fragrant breezes fan 
Floods of silver moonlight lie ; 
Plaintively the bulbul grieves. 
And the tinkling fountains flow 
In the garden-close below ; 

She, above on her divan 
By the casement^s open bars. 
Gazes out upon the stars. 

Happy Princess Badoura. 


To the slave girl standing near 
Ever and anon she speaks. 
Looking still into the night ; 
Persian roses dye her cheeks. 

And against her olive ear 
Shines a pure pearl, snoAvy white. 


PRINCESS BADOURA. 


811 


Eound her, like a filmy veil, 

Falls her burnoose, azure pale ; 
And a gleaming golden spear, 

Like a ray of sunlight fair, 
Shimmers in her raven hair. 
Lovely Princess Badoura. 

At her feet there falls a rose ; 

^Tis the longed-for trysting-hour ! 
Stooping with an eager air 
Tenderly she clasps the flower. 
Kisses it the while she goes 
Swiftly down the winding stair ; 
There h^ exiled lover waits 
Till he sees the postern gates 
Slowly, silently unclose. 

And before him stand, divine 
In the moonlight hyaline. 

Smiling Princess Badoura. 

Oh, the joy that fills her heart 
Once again to hear his voice. 

Once again to feel his kiss ! 

All the birds that see rejoice. 
Singing with melodious art. 

Ne’er before was love like this !” 
What is now the world to her, — 
Noble, princely flatterer. 

Playing each his petty part ? 

Here beneath the gemmed skies. 
Here is bliss and paradise ! 

Trustful Princess Badoura. 

Hearken ! on her startled ear 
Falls a low and boding sound ; 

Is it but the winds that blow ? 

Is it but the kennelled hound? 
Through her bosom thrills a fear 
As the silent moments go. 
Suddenly a scimetar 
Flashes like a falling star. 

And upon the grassy ground. 
With the love-light in his eyes 
Fading fast, her lover lies, 

Woful Princess Badoura. 


Clinton Scollard, 


812 


FROM LIBBY TO FREEDOM. 


FROM LIBBY TO FREEDOM. 

A fter the fight on the 25th of June, in front of the intrenchments 
at Fair Oaks, I lay sick in my tent, one of the many victims of 
the Chickahominy swamps. At nine p.m. on the 28th we were ordered 
to get ready to march at a moment’s notice, and to destroy all stores, 
camp-equipage, munitions of war, officers’ baggage, etc. Our regiment, 
or rather what was left of it after the continuous fighting, was allowed 
two wagons : one we filled with ammunition, and the other with rations 
and regimental books and papers. Almost everything was destroyed, — 
new rifles bent, rations spilled into the mud, tents cut to pieces, officers’ 
baggage torn into shreds. No fires were allowed. The men began to 
talk about skedaddling,” and the timid ones packed hurriedly and 
quietly sneaked away to follow the teams. 

The darkness was unbroken, save in the direction of the White 
House, where a reddened sky gave evidence that the destruction of gov- 
ernment property was going on. All kinds of rumors were whispered : 

We were surrounded.” Hooker’s division was left to hold the rear 
and take care of itself.” Many were the surmises as to our destination. 
Yorktown was the opinion of most ; the James River was spoken of. 

This continued until morning, and still no orders to move. At 
about eight o’clock, however, the line was formed, and the whole 
division filed down the road. 

Our surgeon had promised to send an ambulance for a sick lieuten- 
ant and myself, and the provost stopped at the front of my tent to say 
that it was across the road. The lieutenant went out to see where it 
was, but came back saying that it was gone. The driver was timid and 
afraid to stay. 

At this depressing news, we left our tent and went across the road 
to an old house that had been used as a hospital. A signal-officer of 
Porter’s corps passed, and I called to him to send us an ambulance or 
horses. He knew me, so he promised, and galloped off. 

He had scarcely gone, when the rebels poured yelling over the em- 
bankment at Redoubt No. 3. The advance-guard entered the house and 
formally made us prisoners, but the officer said that no guard would be 
placed over us if we would promise not to try to escape. As we were 
barely able to stagger, we gave the required promise. 

Our rear-guard soon began to fire on the advancing rebels, wffiere- 
upon a large body of them poured out of the w^oods on our right, and 
our little house of refuge was between two fires. The air was full of* 
whizzing shells. 

In the midst of it all, we were taken before a major, who asked 
us many questions about the movements and strength of our army. 
On our declining to answer, he became furious, and ordered us to be 
taken to the rear. 

At the other side of the opening we met the wagons provided for 
such prisoners as were unable to walk ; into one of them the lieutenant 


FROM LIBBY TO FREEDOM. 


813 


and myself were told to climb, and we soon found ourselves en route 
for Richmond. The sun blazed down upon us as we bumped along, 
faint with hunger and parched with thirst. I implored the guard to 
stop and get us a drink, but he refused. I gave vent to a forcible re- 
monstrance, when he cocked his piece, brought it to his shoulder, put 
his finger on the trigger, and coolly remarked, What^s that you say, 
Yank I subsided with a groan. 

At six o’clock we drove into Richmond. It was Sunday, and the 
streets were thronged with people, who flocked around the wagons and 
stared at the prisoners. We were taken to Main Street, and driven 
slowly along the north side the entire length of the crowded thorough- 
fare, and then back again along the south side. Having thus gratified 
the populace with a sight of the last batch of captured Yankees, our 
guard conducted us up Carey Street to the famous tobacco-warehouse 
known as Libby Prison. 

We didn’t feel particularly cheerful as we came in sight of the 
prison, an immense building, with thousands of heads dimly visible 
through the barred windows. The lieutenant and I were taken before 
the commandant of the prison, questioned, and examined. Finding no 
weapons, — we had destroyed our side-arms before capture, — the com- 
mandant allowed us to retain our money, and I was also permitted to 
keep my blanket. We were then taken to the lower floor, and turned 
into the room reserved for officers. There we found one hundred and 
ninety fellow-sutferers, who crowded around us, asking dozens of ques- 
tions concerning the movements and condition of our army. 

The room was very long, extending the whole depth of the ware- 
house, but comparatively narrow. It was lighted and ventilated by 
three windows at one end and two windows and a door at the other. 
These apertures were constantly surrounded by prisoners anxious for a 
breath of fresh air or a sight of blue sky. 

If by chance a head approaclied too near a window, there would 
come the warning thrust of a bayonet, or, very likely, a shot, accom- 
panied with the admonition, Learn to keep your head in, Yank.” 

The floor was covered with a thick paste of mud and slime : tables, 
chairs, or cots there were none. 

Captain McC., of the Fourth, shared his supper with us, and then, 
spreading my blanket on the muddy floor, the lieutenant and I lay 
down and were soon fast asleep. 

We were roused in the morning by the restless tramp of the early 
risers, astir to watch the preparations for breakfast. A squad of 
privates, each bearing a bucket filled with hunks of dry bread, filed 
through the room, depositing the buckets at regular intervals along tlie 
floor; a second squad followed with buckets of stewed meat. This 
performance was repeated three times a day, with occasional slight vari- 
ations in the contents of the buckets. Of course there were no knives, 
forks, or spoons. The prisoners, I found, had formed themselves into 
messes, and through the agency of the guard had bought such things 
as they could not do without. New-comers had to dive into the buckets 
and ^^come the grab game” or go hungry. On the third day I be- 
came a member of Mess No. 7, and the sergeant of the guard bought 
VoL. XLI.— 62 


814 


FROM LIBBY TO FREEDOM. 


for me two inches of brown soap, which cost me seventy-five cents ; a 
common towel, one dollar ; a knife and fork, each fifty cents ; and a tin 
cup, fifty cents. 

The second day I heard Colonel Sweitzer speak to the officer of the 
guard about a blanket for a wounded man. Looking in the direction 
he pointed, I could scarcely believe my eyes when I saw my old friend 

and boon companion. Will R , almost scalped. I stepped up and 

spoke his name, when he threw his arms around me, kissed me violently, 
and almost broke my meerschaum. What a long talk we had ! In 
our walk up and down the prison floor, we named each window, corner, 
and door after some familiar haunt at home. AVe talked so much of 
home that I dreamt of it all night, and woke to find myself lying on 
the dirty prison floor. The rations had been brought in and eaten up. 
I consoled myself with my pipe. 

Will and I paid many visits to our lady friends, Avhom we located 
at the windows, because they were always crowded with admirers. 

On the Fourth of July all the prisoners in Libby were marched, 
closely guarded, through the middle of the street to Eighteenth Street, 
between Main and Carey, and were given quarters in a four-story 
tobacco-factory known as Prison No. 6. Here we were provided with 
slat beds, which were worse than the floor ; blankets, which Uncle Sam 
sent us ; and two tables to each floor, but no seats. AVill and I got ad- 
joining beds next a window on the fourth floor. We were not restricted 
to one room, as at Libby, but could roam freely over the whole building, 
and even go out into the little alley-way between the prison and the 
cook-house in the rear, which alley was, of course, boarded up and 
closely guarded. 

Each mess was allowed a servant, — one of our Union privates, — and 
twice a day these men were sent under guard to a certain pump for 
drinking-water. By assuming their uniform, we Avere permitted, one 
or two at a time, to go in their place. This was the greatest delight of 
our prison life, — to walk the streets of Richmond in our shirt-sleeves, 
under guard, carrying a bucket of water. We always marched with 
precision, whistling some patriotic air, to the disgust of the citizens. 
Little boys would skedaddle at our approach, and peep out at us from 
behind corners ; some ladies would cross the street to aA^oid us ; occa- 
sionally Ave received a smile of sympathy, or perchance a note slipped 
slyly into our eager hands. Standing at the pump one day, I was asked, 
by a good-looking mulatto girl, to shoAV her the horn on my head. 

Our occupations in-doors Avere various. Card-parties were organized, 
every game ever heard of was played, and many new ones were in- 
vented. Each officer bought a book, and by exchanging we could keep 
ourselves in reading-matter. Prayer-meetings, too, Avere formed, and 
kept up morning and evening the whole time I was there, — one of the 
officers lecturing at each meeting. 

The gas Avas turned off at nine o’clock, and then, to the disgust of 
a few, our operatic performance would begin. Captain D. generally 
started up with the Troubadours Ave would all join in, each with 
his favorite air, with as much lung-force as our limited rations per- 
mitted, enlivening the harmonious medley by jingling together the 


FROM LIBBY TO FREEDOM. 


815 


plates of the tobacco-presses. Some one would upset another’s bed, a 
grand finale which generally brought in the guard, and then, as if by 
magic, all would be energetically snoring. 

We were furnished with half-rations of bread and meat. Those 
lucky enough to have money bought coffee, — burnt rye seventy-five 
cents a pound, real coffee two dollars and fifty cents. Butter was one 
dollar a pound, eggs one dollar a dozen, tea sixteen dollars a pound. 
Eating was therefore an expensive amusement. 

Another interesting occupation was washing. I saw one colonel go 
all day without his shirt while he washed it and hung it out the window 
to dry. I often spent a whole hour and twenty-five cents’ worth of soap 
upon a shirt, and then had the satisfaction of knowing that it looked 
quite as well before I began. 

Sitting before our window one day. Will and I were treated to the 
sight of a fair rebel in an adjoining yard, evidently there to see and be 
seen by the Yankees. She smiled ; we sent a kiss ; we brought a field- 
glass to bear upon her, at which she kissed her lovely Secesh hand to 
us. We W'ere in ecstasies. Said Will, Owners for her, Jacky?” 
Said I, No, she is mine : I kissed my hand first.” We did not 
dispute about possession, for she disappeared, and we never saw her 
again. 

A few days later two visions of loveliness appeared in another yard. 
We both exclaimed at once, I speak for the one with the black hair !” 
But, without waiting to decide who should be the happy owner of the 
sable-tressed damsel, we endeavored by means of signs to communicate 
our admiration and attachment, and even began to think of joining 
the Southern cause. (?) After the angels left, we fell to composing love- 
letters, and used up fifty cents’ worth of paper at five cents a sheet in 
that absorbing occupation. The next morning they shone upon us 
again, this time armed with slate and pencil ; but we could not make 
out what they wrote. We despatched our notes by means of darts con- 
structed out of fragments torn from the rafters, and our enchanters soon 
retired to read their billets-doux. The next day they brought a large 
slate and chalk, and, aided by our field-glass, we succeeded in decipher- 
ing their writing. The first sentence of tender emotion was addressed 
to a lieutenant of the Bucktails,” modestly asking for the bucktail 
off his hat : he promptly replied that he didn’t see it.” They then 
bribed the guard to bring us a delicate epistle in which they informed 
us that they were working in an adjacent millinery-shop where they 
were apprenticed. When the rafters could yield us no more material 
for our darts, one of the boys discovered a keg of nails on the first 
floor, and we found that by freighting a note with several nails we could 
easily land it at the feet of the pair. In this way the whole keg was 
speedily emptied into the yard, and the correspondence was forced to 
come to an untimely end. 

My meerschaum was a source of great consolation. Tobacco in 
Bichmond was good and cheap, and except when eating or sleeping I 
was smoking. What a beautiful color the bowl had become ! On the 
marches and fights in the Peninsula it was my bosom companion. I 
remember at Fair Oaks when I lit it during the fight, how much 


816 


FROM LIBBY TO FREEDOM, 


more anxiety I felt lest my pipe should be struck by one of those 
musical missiles rather than my own miserable body. So far I had 
eclipsed McClellan, and gotten into Richmond before the Fourth of 
July. The morning dawned upon my twenty-second birthday. I ate 
my breakfast sadly and went down to wash. To wash my face I was 
compelled to remove the meerschaum from my mouth, and I laid it on 
an adjacent shelf. When I took the towel from my face and put out 
my hand for the beloved, it was gone ! My darling had actually been 
kidnapped from under my eyes. Fancy my feelings ! I sat on the 
edge of my bed, the empty case in my hand, and thought of the many 
happy birthdays I had spent, and then of my meerschaum : it was 
almost beyond endurance. 

One day a North-Carolinian was on guard at one of the first-floor 
windows, and in a sly conversation he said he was tired of the South 
and was going to desert and go North. Will and I promised him the 
position of sergeant in the Union army if he would aid us to escape. 
He vowed to do his best, and added that he should be on guard again 
the next Monday on the first relief, and that then we could get over 
the piece of fence he would be guarding and be far away before any- 
thing was discovered. We got all ready and waited anxiously for the 
appointed hour. Monday came ; we watched eagerly for the gaunt 
Carolinian, but he did not come on, and we never saw him again. He 
must have been suspected. He had told us he was often under guard 
himself, was a conscript, and felt no interest in the Southern cause. 

We were grievously disappointed, but lost no time in returning to 
another project we had had on hand. Between the prison and the 
house adjoining was a narrow alley, which was boarded up and closely 
guarded to prevent the prisoners from breaking through. During 
many dark nights Will and I had been busy cutting around the spikes, 
so that the boards would slide off without making a noise. On the 
evening of July 29, a travelled captain, a member of General WooFs 
staff, was discoursing to the boys about the Chinese, and in the laughter 
that followed the ancient anecdote of roast pig, Lieutenant M., of the 
First Long Island, Will, and myself stole out of the house, and 
slipped off the board we had been working at. Looking down the 
alley, we could see two guards, one on each side, with their muskets 
lying across their laps. Now, by going into the alley, up one pair of 
stairs and down another, we could go out the next alley as if coming 
from the next house. But at the top of the stairs we had often heard 
a dog bark. It was about half-past nine, and very dark. We slipped 
into the alley, stole on tiptoe half-way up the flight of steps, then 
turned and clattered noisily down, marched boldly down the alley, 
stepped right over the guards, and turned to our left tow^ard Main 
Street, conversing in a familiar manner, but momentarily expecting a 
bullet in our backs. We turned up Main Street, and had gone but a 
little w^ay when we met the provost-guard coming down. We hastily 
entered the nearest shop, which proved to be that of the girl with the 
black hair.^^ She received us kindly, notwithstanding her surprise, 
and, promising not to betray us, took us into a little back parlor to 
wait until the guard had gotten well out of the way. Lieutenant 


FROM LIBBY TO FREEDOM. 


817 


M. sat down at the piano, and, in the exhilaration of our spirits, we 
tempted fortune with the strains of Hail Columbia’^ and the Star- 
Spangled Banner/^ We talked a little, and then we went out, we 
knew not where. We had left our shoulder-strapped coats behind, and 
wore only flannel shirts and our uniform trousers. We walked up into 
the aristocratic part of town, where we saw young soldiers sitting on 
the porches, talking to the girls ; passed the hotels, which were swarm- 
ing with rebel officers ; then, turning into a side-street, sat down on a 
curb-stone to hold a council. After some talk, we decided to go to a 
certain colored barber who had been in prison several times to shave 
us, and ask him to keep us till morning. We found his shop closed, 
and while we were hammering on the door a watchman came along, 
turning off the gas. He ordered us away, and we sought out another 
sympathizer ; but his place, too, was closed, and, the same watchman 
appearing in sight, we turned into an alley to avoid him. We tried the 
market-place, but found it the head-quarters for all guards. Afraid that 
our blue trousers would betray us, we pushed on into a deserted street, 
where we sat down on the steps of a warehouse, intending to remain 
there the rest of the night. It was just two o’clock. We were very 
tired, being unused to exercise, and presently left the steps to lie down 
on a cellar-door, where we, three Federal officers, partly in uniform, 
slumbered peacefully in the heart of the Confederacy. 

The night was chilly, and the hinges and locks on the cellar-door, 
no less than the fact that we were within sight of Father Jefferson’s 
mansion, tended to keep us semi-conscious. On awakening at day- 
break we felt no surprise at our situation. We began to walk, in- 
tending to meander around until the barber or some other friend should 
open up ; but by degrees we grew bolder, and ventured into a coffee- 
house, where, in company with some soldiers and farmers, we had a cup 
of so-called coffee and two doughnuts each. Kefreshed by this sumptu- 
ous breakfast, we directed our steps toward a certain house where we 
knew there was a good Union man who w^anted to go North. On our 
way we saw the lieutenant commanding our prison, but, as he did not 
know that we had escaped, he was not looking for us. We learned 
afterwards that the boys answered for us at roll-call for several morn- 
ings after our escape, thus giving us a good start. 

We soon reached the home of our friend, a thriving baker, whose 
daughter, by the way, was engaged to be married to a lieutenant of the 
Fourth New Jersey. The spark of love had been ignited by muck” 
pies sent by the said daughter to the said lieutenant, and many cigars 
had fanned the flame. Upon introducing ourselves to the baker, he 
confessed frankly that he was averse to receiving escaped prisoners, but 
told us we might remain until his son should come in. While waiting 
in the shop, some soldiers entered to buy cakes. They took a good 
stare at us, but went away without saying anything. We were grow- 
ing very nervous, but in about half an hour the son or cousin — I 
forget the relationship — came in. His name was Macivor. He 
greeted us cordially, took us into a back room, and then went out 
again to get us a change of clothing. We kept very quiet, for the rear 
windows of the prison overlooked the baker’s back yard : indeed, it 


818 


FROM LIBBY TO FREEDOM. 


was by means of signs and signals cautiously made by Macivor for 
the benefit of the prisoners that we had discovered the Union senti- 
ments of the family. On Macivor’s return he w^as accompanied by a 
lady and gentleman who brought us a complete outfit, together with 
papers, tobacco, matches (seventy-five cents a box), a shawl, and every- 
thing we required. 

The friendly barber came in, too, direct from the prison, bringing 
us a message from General McCall, who advised us, in view of the 
difficulties ahead, to return to the prison and give ourselves up. But 
we had found freedom too sweet to be relinquished without a struggle, 
and we agreed to go ahead and risk getting^ through the lines. We took 
dinner with the baker and his daughter, particularly the daughter, and 
left the house at two o’clock in the afternoon, three of the raggedest- 
looking villains you ever saw. 

We kept on our blue trousers under the disguise. Will wore a linen 
coat, which subsequently got torn into shreds going through the woods. 
I carried a hatchet, and Macivor a shawl. Mac had been working in 
the Eagle Foundry a few months before, and at that time had an ex- 
emption-paper given him. It had expired, and he could not get it 
renewed, and was therefore anxious to escape North to avoid the con- 
scription. With this paper for a copy, I forged a similar one, with 
alterations of names and dates, for each one of us. 

After a long debate, we decided to make a bee-line for the White 
House, in hopes that the place might be in possession of the Union 
forces. We started out by twos, and went through the town in a north- 
easterly direction, getting a good view of the surrounding earth-works. 
About two miles from the city, we saw a picket sitting by the side of 
the road. Turning off, we attempted to pass between him and the next 
picket, but he shouted to us, and called the corporal of the guard. 
That officer promptly appeared, and demanded to know wdiat we were 
doing out there, and what regiment we belonged to. We answered 
that we were not soldiers, but were going out for blackberries, and 
showed him our exemption-papers. But he persisted in his refusal to 
let us go through, and Mac began to argue with him angrily, which 
imprudence came near causing our arrest ; but we were finally allowed to 
go back toward Richmond. We w^ere much discouraged, and feared 
that w^e should have to wait till night and then try to crawl out under 
cover of the darkness. As we strolled along, discussing our altered 
plans, we were suddenly hailed by another picket : 

Where are you going ? Show your pass.” 

We told him we were on a visit to a friend in the Fifth Virginia 
Artillery. 

Well, you can go back the way you came, for you can’t get in 
here.” 

He had not seen us until we were outside the line, and, thinking that 
we were trying to get in, ordered us in the very direction we were so 
anxious to take. Our surprise and delight nearly betrayed us, but, 
hastily recovering ourselves, we set out in the indicated way, chuckling 
over our good fortune. 

We passed many camps of artillery, and until dark could hear the 


FROM LIBBY TO FREEDOM. 


819 


drums beating around the town. Just out of sight of the pickets, we 
turned aside into a wood, in the heart of which we made a tent out of 
our shawl, and quickly crept under it, for it had begun to rain. All 
night long we heard the cavalry scouts, but they did not approach us. 
In the morning we were a sight to behold. The mosquitoes had so 
bitten our faces and hands that we bore a family resemblance to the 
Benicia Boy after his struggle for the champion belt. The lid of my 
left eye was so swollen I could not lift it. At daybreak, in the still 
pouring rain, we started through the woods, keeping in a northeasterly 
direction, never speaking above a whisper, and before long reached the 
famous Chickahominy. The bridges had been burnt, but we found one 
slippery, slimy log in position. Crawling carefully over this, we soon 
came to the place where the Union pickets had been stationed, and where 
McCalFs division had been encamped. Here we had a glorious feast 
of huckleberries, and then pushed on, keeping off the roads for fear of 
cavalry scouts. The rain continued to fall in torrents. At one o’clock 
we passed Gaines’s Mill. At three o’clock we were so hungry that we 
ventured out of the woods to look for a house where we might get 
some dinner. The first one we struck belonged to a Dr. Tyler. Mrs. 
Tyler received us on the porch, ordered some dinner cooked, and then 
began to ask questions : 

Where are you all from, gentlemen ? Where are you going ? 
What are your names ?” 

Of course we could not give a very satisfactory account of ourselves, 
but there were only Mrs. Tyler, her charming daughter, and the servants 
at home, and we had no fear of their arresting us. But, while congratu- 
lating ourselves, a squad of cavalry clattered down the road, halted at 
the gate, and peered up at us through the pouring rain. We could 
scarcely conceal our alarm, for Mrs. Tyler had told us that the country 
round about was full of deserters, and that the cavalry were capturing 
them every day. Presently she inquired if we were not deserters. 
Whether the men hated to alight in the rain and mud, or whether it 
was simply our usual good fortune befriending us, we could not tell, 
but, after some hesitation, the squad galloped off, and we were left to eat 
our dinner in peace. Ham, eggs, buttermilk, and the invariable hoe- 
cake tasted delicious to the half-starved refugees. We paid Mrs. Tyler 
in Confederate money, and departed, taking some corn-bread in our 
pockets. 

We made our way through woods and swamps until dusk, when on 
the edge of a clearing we stumbled on an old deserted school-house, with 
a stove in it. Here we resolved to stay all night and dry our clothes, 
which were completely drenched. At ten o’clock we built a fire, hung our 
clothes around the stove, and lay down on a bench, with a log of wood 
for a pillow. At daybreak we were off again. Our corn-bread having 
become quite sour and unfit to eat, we breakfasted upon huckleberries. 
Woods, fields, swamps, and creeks alternated under our weary feet 
until three o’clock, when we struck the Pamunkey River. We gave 
three cheers in a subdued whisper, and followed the bank on the look- 
out for a boat. A dense jungle nearly stopped our progress : it was 
full of snakes, and so thickly overgrown that it took a vigorous use of 


820 


FROM LIBBY TO FREEDOM. 


the hatchet to enable us to make our way through. Below this we saw 
a boat on the other side of the river, and decided to wait till nightfall, 
then swim across, get into it, and row down the stream. Hunger got 
the better of us before it was time to make the attempt, and, leaving 
Mac in the hiding-place to keep an eye on the boat, we sallied forth in 
quest of rations. We soon reached an immense plantation called New 
Castle, and, going to one of the numerous negro-huts, asked for corn- 
cake. An old woman in charge of a battalion of about seventy-five 
pickaninnies, from one to two years old, whom she was feeding with 
bread and milk, referred us to the overseer, Mr. Patterson. We 
thought it would be wiser not to risk the encounter; but, as we turned 
to go, he came towards us. We made a requisition for rations after 
the usual form. Without noticing our polite request, he accused us of 
being deserters. We protested, and showed our papers, but did not 
succeed in giving very satisfactory answers to his numerous questions. 
He agreed to give us some supper, notwithstanding, and we sat on his 
porch while the darky woman made some corn-cake and fried some 
bacon. The old woman was slow, and the overseer talkative. To re- 
lieve his anxiety. Lieutenant M. got on the swing and swung furiously. 
The operation caused his blue trousers to work out at the top, and they 
showed about three inches, in full view of Mr. Patterson. The rest of 
us sat still, in cold perspiration. The supper was very long preparing, 
and, after it was ready, our host delayed asking us to sit down. We 
began to suspect that he had arranged a trap for us, and watched him 
closely while despatching our supper as quickly as possible. Paying 
him, as we had done elsewhere, we returned with all possible speed to 
the place where we had left Mac. From Mr. Patterson’s remarks we 
had learned that the Confederates still held the White House : so we 
■were forced to abandon the idea of going down the Pamunkey. Re- 
joining Mac, we swam across the river, and walked briskly until nine 
o’clock, spurred on by the fear that the overseer had informed the scouts 
of our suspicious appearance. Thirty dollars reward was given by the 
rebel government for each deserter apprehended, and the scouts were 
always on the alert. At nine o’clock we lay down in the middle of an 
immense wheat-field, recently cut and shocked, lit our pipes, talked 
awhile in low whispers, then dropped asleep. At dawn we awoke, 
soaked with dew, our muscles so stiff that we felt like jointed dolls, 
unable to move of ourselves. Groaning over our aching bones, we 
proceeded slowly through the long wet grass, marching half an hour 
and resting an hour, until the sun came out and warmed us up. 

We advanced cautiously in line of battle, but not throwing out 
skirmishers, upon a house, which proved to be occupied by the slaves 
of a nabob who lived across the river. Here we procured a sumptuous 
breakfast of herring and ash-cake. To make this appetizing cake, take 
corn meal and water, in darky hands, pat the mixture into a ball, slap 
it into the fire, and cover it with ashes. After a right smart while,’^ 
rake it out, scrape off the ashes and the burnt meal, and, if anything 
is left, that is ash-cake. At this extensive restaurant they charged us 
two dollars. We now got well under way, advanced rapidly and 
steadily, and ventured to take a road that led in our direction. We ran 


FROM LIBBY TO FREEDOM. 


821 


across a picturesque spring-house, a jug of buttermilk cooling within. 
We immediately flanked said jug, and eventually surrounded said milk; 
said milk proved to be Secesb, was confiscated, and dealt out to a portion 
of the Federal army. Farther on, near a very elegant farm-house, we 
met a contraband, who informed us that his master. Captain Carter, of 
the Virginia Artillery, had gone down to the White House that morn- 
ing, because the gun-boats were coming up. He added that none of 
the white folks were at home. We said we were very sorry, that we 
had called to see Captain Carter on business, and then coolly asked the 
darky if he could give us some dinner. Certainly,^^ w^s his response : 
so we walked over the lawn and through a splendid orchard and ended 
up in the parlor. Lieutenant M. enlivened our hearts with the Star- 
Spangled Banner^^ and the Eed, White, and Blue’^ on one of Chicker- 
ing’s best. Dinner was served on the front piazza, and we sat down to 
and ate heartily of broiled chicken, ham and eggs, sliced tomatoes, and 
iced milk, off china, silver, and cut glass. A tidy black waiter in at- 
tendance told us all about the captain’s family ; he had two sons in the 
Confederate army, both lieutenants. One of the slaves took a fancy 
to our shawl, and, as our money had given out, we sold it to him for 
eight dollars. Confederate currency, and then took our departure, leav- 
ing our names and compliments for Captain Carter. 

Lighting our pipes, we set out on the road to the West Point Ferry. 
We were in prime marching order, and made good time. A sharp 
bend in the road brought us suddenly to a small village, where there 
Avas a store, with a number of white men standing about. We put on 
a bold face, and, marching right up to the store, asked where we could 
get a drink of AA^ater. One of the men replied that his boy was just 
going to the spring and that we might go along. The spring Avas 
across the road in the woods. On the Avay over, the boy told us that 
four men had stopped at his father’s store that morning, and a little 
while after had been arrested as deserters by the caA^alry. He wanted 
to knoAV if we Avere not deserters, but we gave him to understand that 
we had been employed to work on the railroad the Yankees had spoiled. 
He Avas very anxious we should go back and see his father, so we 
promised to follow him when we should be rested, but as soon as he 
was out of sight v/e left that unAvholesome part of the country. 
Making our Avay through what the boy had called RunaAvay Woods, 
we struck the road about two miles below the hamlet, and pushed on 
as fast as our weary limbs could carry us. 

We resolved to stop for the night at the first house we came to, for 
we had no blanket. The first house proved to be the residence of a 
wealthy planter, so we were afraid to risk it ; but Ave vowed to stop at 
the next house if Beauregard himself should live there. Three miles 
farther on we reached a hospitable-looking mansion ; but our courage 
quickly evaporated on being told by a contraband that Dr. Douglas 
lived there, and that two gentlemen were staying with him. We felt 
assured that it would be suicide to linger in that neighborhood, and 
went on again, foot-sore and weary. At nine o’clock Ave arrived at the 
little town called King William Court-House, and in sheer desperation 
marched into the only hotel and demanded supper. Very shortly after 


822 


FROM LIBBY TO FREEDOM. 


supper vve sought our beds, — real beds, with sheets and pillows, — but 
before going to sleep we took tlie precaution of singing ‘‘ Maryland, my 
Maryland,^^ and the Bonny Blue Flag/^ The next day was Sunday. 
On going into the dining-room in the morning we observed a cavalry 
officer sitting at the table. Although our hearts sank at the sight, it 
was no time to hesitate, so we sat down and ordered breakfast. The 
officer soon got up and went out. We finished our breakfast and went 
around outside to pay the bill : there stood the officer beside his horse, 
with a sardonic smile on his countenance. While settling with the 
landlord, we asked, loud enough for the officer to hear, how far it was 
to the nearest church, and then started off in the direction indicated. 
About a mile down the road we turned off to a spring, and while there 
saw the officer go flying past. We were not yet certain that he was 
after us, but we felt reasonably assured that one man could not capture 
four men : so, lighting our pipes, we again took the road. Three old 
colored women, on their way to church, stopped us, and conveyed the 
interesting information that three soldiers had just gone past on the 
lookout for us. We saw at once that we should have to leave the road 
or be captured : so we hid in the bushes to wait for Mac, who had lin- 
gered behind, picking blackberries. Presently the same officer, rein- 
forced by two privates, came in sight. Two more privates from the 
opposite direction joined him. They met quite near our hiding-place, 
and began to examine our tracks in the dusty road, but we had made 
so many marks that they were baffled, and could not decide which way 
we had gone. We lay quite still, scarcely daring to breathe. After a 
short consultation, two soldiers turned one way, and three the other, 
and all galloped off furiously. We concluded that Mac would be 
captured, and that the best thing for us to do was to skedaddle : so, 
turning to our left into the woods, we went at double-quick until an 
immense swamp reduced us to common time. In the afternoon it 
began to rain. On the other side of the woods we came upon a small 
white cottage, where we decided to ask for food. What was our surprise 
on entering to behold eight or ten ladies sitting around the dinner-table ! 
Of course we blushed painfully, but recovered ourselves on observing 
that the ladies were more embarrassed than we ; this giving us courage, 
we proceeded to make ourselves agreeable. The ladies were dressed in 
low-necked, short-sleeved summer dresses, with crinoline of the proper 
proportion. Two of them w^ere ravishingly beautiful : one in particular 
lacerated my heart distressingly. When they rose, blushing, from the 
table, we made the discovery that not one of them had on shoes or 
stockings. The grandmother was there, and she explained that shoes 
were so expensive they had all agreed not to wear any during the 
summer months. Pretty little rosy feet ! how quickly they were hidden 
from view ! We were invited to eat some dinner, and then we sat and 
talked until the rain was over. The lady of the house refused our 
proffered payment, — the first person that had so refused since our 
leaving Richmond. We had not gone two paces when with one im- 
pulse we turned back and told our hostess we would intrust a secret to 
her if she would keep it for two days. She promised, and we gave her 
our true names, rank in the Union army, and the circumstances of our 


FROM LIBBY TO FREEDOM. 823 

presence in that part of the country. She directed us to the Mattapony 
River, and we parted the best of friends. 

Having reached the river, we hunted up and down the banks for a 
boat, but, not finding one, we retraced our steps about a mile to a small 
creek, where we had discovered a skiff above a mill-dam. Dragging it 
to the top of the dam, we got in and slid down the slippery rocks. The 
creek we found too shallow to float the skiff, so we were compelled to 
drag it over the sand and around places choked up with logs ; which 
extra labor so retarded our progress that when we finally succeeded in 
reaching the river we found a rising tide. We had only one oar, so we 
paddled under some bushes, tied up, and masked the stern of the boat 
with boughs. There we smoked our last bit of tobacco, and then lay, 
without speaking above a whisper, until eight o’clock. By that time 
it was quite dark, and the tide had begun to run out. 

We agreed that two should lie down in the boat, and one should 
paddle, on hour reliefs. Down the silent stream we floated, never 
daring to speak a word. At midnight I found myself in the stern, 
my hands blistered, my eyelids drooping, my two comrades asleep in 
the bottom of the boat. The moon had set, and it was very dark. 
The tide had run out, so I made an attempt to land. The shore was 
low and marshy, covered with long flags growing out of the oozing 
mud ; nothing to tie to, and no place to land. I paddled across the 
wide dark river; the other side was the sand. Some floating phos- 
phorus, stirred up by my oar, glowed and sparkled in the darkness. I 
headed back for the opposite shore, and, finding a fishing-stake, tied the 
boat-chain up as high as I could reach, and then lay down to sleep. 

At dawn the next morning the tide was again going out. We 
floated slowly down with it on the lookout for oars. Discovering a 
plank by an old mill, we succeeded in breaking it into something the 
shape of an oar, and with its help we rowed to where we saw a skiff 
under a bank. 

On the top of the bank there was a man chopping wood, so we 
rowed, as cautiously as possible, quite near the skiff, but found no oars. 
Seeing the handle of one sticking out of the bushes a short distance 
above, I took off my shoes, stole up, pulled at the oar, and was soon 
back in the boat and off down the river. 

At noon the tide turned, so we drew up at a large deserted mansion, 
hid the boat, and lay down on the grass to sleep. Later in the after- 
noon we explored the premises. The house was of colonial architec- 
ture, — very high ceilings, immense hall, grand stairway, most of the 
rooms panelled and carved, but everything had gone to decay. A blight 
lay even upon the surrounding vegetation. In the orchard the apples 
were sour and wormy, and, though we found some luscious-looking 
blackberries, they proved to be as bitter as gall. Pigs were in the 
spring, snakes showed themselves everywhere, and one little half-starved 
dog ran up to us whining piteously. We found plenty of rebel letters 
and documents of ancient date lying in the closets and littering the floors. 
Making a battering-ram of a fence-rail, we broke open the door of a 
boat-house, in which we discovered rods, lines, reels, and hooks, but, 
above all, a first-rate pair of oars. Before leaving, we wrote with char- 


824 


FROM LIBBY TO FREEDOM. 


coal, in big letters, on the white w^alls of the drawing-room, our names, 
and the date of our escape from Prison No. 6, adding, with youthful 
exuberance, ^^On our way to freedom. The Union must and shall be 
preserved 

At dusk we embarked anew. The dog wliined to be taken along, 
but his company would have been too risky, and we were forced to 
leave the poor beast howling dismally on the landing. With our new 
oars w^e could make our little boat fairly skim over the water. We 
divided the watch into an hour at the oars and half an hour at the 
rudder ; in this way all three were kept busy ; no chance to get a wink 
of sleep. The river was very wide. A wind sprang up, and the waves 
washed pitilessly over our frail little bark. As the tide turned in the 
night, we pulled up under some bushes, and succeeded in snatching a 
little sleep. At eight o^clock next morning w^e again got under way. 
To the right of us lay a little town, — what one we could not tell : so, 
although half starved, we dared not attempt to land. As we started 
down the middle of the stream, there crossed in front of us a skiff, in 
whose stern sat a rebel officer, leading his swimming horse. Behind 
us there appeared a man who seemed determined to keep us in view. 
Opposite the town he put to shore. Exchanging his skiff for a 
schooner, and reinforced by several men, he set out, to our great dis- 
may, in open pursuit. Of course the schooner gained rapidly upon us, 
so we tried to land, in order to take to the woods, but, as usual, could 
not find a landing-place. We had had no food for thirty-six hours, 
and were thoroughly exhausted. Will suddenly gave out altogether, 
and was unable to pull a stroke. I took his place, he went to the rud- 
der, and, with the energy of despair, we pulled for the opposite shore. 
The schooner followed, and the men aboard began firing. About 
twenty feet from shore. Will exclaimed, I see a picket And, sure 
enough, half a dozen soldiers promptly appeared and pointed their 
guns at us. Between two fires, there was nothing more to be done : so 
we rowed slowly to shore and yielded ourselves prisoners. Our captors 
said they belonged to Stuart^s Cavalry, and we sadly concluded that 
the game was up. Their blue uniforms gave us no encouragement, for 
so many rebel soldiers wore captured Yankee garments that it was im- 
possible to judge any small squad by their clothes. When we were 
delivered up at the picket head-quarters, what was our joy to find that 
we had been captured’^ by the Fifth Pennsylvania Cavalry, a regi- 
ment recruited from our own home, and full of personal friends ! The 
boys crowded around in friendly interest and curiosity, and gave us a 
perfect ovation. Bagged, bedraggled, unkempt, and unshaven, strangers 
to soap since leaving Richmond, we were the lions of the hour. 

Adjutant Frank Robinson provided us with rations, clothes, and 
horses, and sent us to Williamsburg, where for two days we were the 
guests of Colonel Campbell, the military governor. 

At breakfast the first morning, an orderly entered and whispered to 
the colonel, who shook his head and said, Not now.^^ Again the 
orderly came and whispered, and I caught the words, But he says he 
knows these gentlemen.’^ I looked up : Who is it, colonel and in 
the slight hush that followed there came to our ears the signal-whistle, 


BIRD-LANGUAGE, 825 

Bob White ! Bob, Bob White that we four had agreed upon as the 
call to bring us together when separated in the woods. 

It is Macivor we shouted, and rushed out, to find the poor 
fellow in the guard-house. He had been captured by our troops, but, 
owing to his Southern pronunciation, his story was disbelieved, and he 
was regarded as a spy. It seems that when he had found himself 
separated from the rest of us he had passed himself off as one of the 
villagers, — an easy matter, with his Southern speech, — and, apparently 
joining in the pursuit, had succeeded in turning the scouts in the 
wrong direction, — a lucky thing for us, for he said the bloodhounds 
were put on the scent, and the termination might have been more than 
commonly unpleasant. 

After having profited largely by Colonel CampbelFs hospitality, 
we steamed up the James River to Harrison’s Landing, where we re- 
ported to General McClellan, and gave to the Secret Service Depart- 
ment an account of our escape, together with what information we had 
been able to collect about the movements of the rebel troops and the 
condition of the fortifications around Richmond. 

General McClellan promised us each a furlough, and in a most 
agreeable atmosphere of good fortune and local fame we rejoined our 
respective regiments. 

J. M, Oakley, 


BIRD-LANGUAGE. 

H ark, love, while through this wood we walk, 
Beneath melodious trees. 

How wrens with redbreasts ever talk 
What tuneful words they please ! 

Lured by their feathered clans and sects. 

The listener lightly notes 
Those airy and dulcet dialects 
That bubble from birds’ throats. 

Ah, joy, could we once clearly greet 
The meanings gay that throng 
Their silvery idioms and their sweet 
Provincialisms of song ! 

No gray beard linguist, love, could vie 
With our large learning, then ! 

You’d speak to me in Redbreast . . I 
Would answer you in Wren ! 


Edgar Fawcett. 


826 


WITH GAUGE ^ SWALLOW. 


WITH GAUGE & SWALLOWS 

ISrO. V.— A SHATTERED IDOL. 

T^O you like the country, Mr. Fountain 

I J There was a yearning quaver in Mr. BurrilFs voice as he 
asked the question. He stood looking down upon the street, where 
men were sweltering on the sunny side, and mopping their heads in 
the shadow. It was early summer. The sun was hot by day, but the 
breeze came coolly up the bay at night, and the tide of life yet ran 
strong and bright along the crowded thoroughfares. The new leaves 
were still a glossy green. The dust had not yet penetrated everywhere. 
The streets and roofs were washed with frequent showers. It was just 
at that season when the city-dweller dreams of green fields and flowery 
glades, not because the city is uncomfortable, but because of the beauty 
its glimpses of verdure suggest. 

I am not enthusiastic over country life. I was raised, as we say, 
on a farm,’^ and my memories of that time are chiefly of dirt, dis- 
comfort, and weariness. My youth was not one of ease or pleasure, 
and I seldom look back to it regretfully. In nature’s most perfect 
moods, and under the most favorable conditions, the country is no 
doubt unapproachable, — a type of heaven. But these moods are so 
rare, and the requisite conditions so seldom concur, that the country- 
bred Apostle, in the spirit,” upon Patmos, dreamed of heaven as a 
city having but a single tree. In fact, none of the Biblical writers 
seem to think a permanent residence in the country a thing to be 
desired. In this I agree with them. I should hate to think of my 
mother condemned to an eternity of country life. I am sure her celes- 
tial vision was of an eternal city.” 

I suppose so,” was, therefore, my not very hearty answer to Bur- 
rill’s question. 

Oh, I don’t mean to live in,” said the old man, apologetically, 
as if he divined my thought, ^^but just to pass a day, to dream, to 
loiter in.” 

At a resort ?” 

^^Oh, no, no,” with a gesture of disgust; ^^just in the country, — 
alone or with a friend, — doing nothing, you know.” 

I assented with a shrug. 

Oh, you don’t know what I mean at all. In London, now, — ^you 
know I never lived in the country, and never was there more than a 
week at a time, if so long, before I came here. I didn’t belong to 
what is called society, the little class that stands for all English life to 
the American. I never shot nor hunted, never was on a horse in my 
life, and never fished for anything more gamy than a roach in the old 
country. But there is one thing that one living there has the ad- 
vantage of us in. He can go to the country for a day or two, and 


Copyright, 1888, by E. K. Touegbb. 


WITH GAUGE # SWALLOW. 


827 


not be in a caravansary. By running out a few miles on the railway, 
with an hour or an hour and a half walk, if he knows the country, 
he can always find a tidy little public with a bit of water or wood 
handy, where he can be really alone, have a good meal served in his 
room, enjoy a quiet evening, get a good bed, and run back to town for 
his day^s work, if he likes. 

No, you cannot get it here,^^ he continued, seeing me shake my 
head, and I miss it, I really do, you know, — especially since Minton 
left us/^ 

The old man sat down, turned his oflSce-chair half around, so that his 
back was towards me, and drummed absently on the rail that enclosed 
his desk. He had a great affection for Minton, and for his wife too, and 
had been very lonely since their departure, though hardly a day passed 
that he did not hear from one or the other. I think he hardly knew 
how much they were to him until they had gone. As for myself, I 
ought to have been glad Minton was no longer in the office, but I was 
not. I don^t think anybody was, least of all Mr. Gauge and Mr. 
Swallow. I hardly knew which of the partners missed him most. 
He was so thorough and reliable that they had come to lean on him 
more than they knew ; yet he made so little fuss about his work that 
they scarcely realized how much he did. I always thought of him as 
a sort of chief-of-staflp for the firm, subject to orders, yet commanding 
where not specifically directed, while Bronson was more like an aide-de- 
camp, of high rank, but no inherent authority. I had no special rea- 
son to like him. He had been kind to me, but in a sort of half-amused 
way that used to vex me sometimes. Yet I think he really liked me, 
and I was glad to be remembered in his letters. 

His departure was in some sense a decided advantage to me. 
While it did not cause an immediate increase of salary, it undoubtedly 
brought me forward. His work had to be distributed among the others 
in the office, and a certain share of it fell to me, — more important 
work than I had done before. Then, too, it brought me nearer to Bur- 
rill. I had always thought it would be to my interest to cultivate the 
old man, and, besides that, I really was fond of him. Up to that time, 
however, I had little idea how much it might be worth my while to stand 
well in his regard. I had, indeed, noticed that for some time the part- 
ners had shown him unusual deference. I do not know that he was 
consulted any more than formerly, but it seemed to be more openly done. 
It was not an unusual thing of late for Mr. Swallow to come out and 
say, in his off-hand way, Well, Mr. Burrill, Vye got a matter I must 
talk over with you,^^ and take him off to his room for an hour. I 
noticed, too, that he was sometimes sent to represent the firm before a 
referee, and that somehow everybody had become very particular about 
calling him Mr.^^ So I said, after a moment^s silence, — 

Perhaps we might find such a place, Mr. Burrill.^^ 

No, we can’t : there isn’t any,” answered the old man, petulantly 
wheeling round in his chair. But I’ll tell you what we might do : 
we might take a lunch. I know a place. What do you say to next 
Saturday, if it is fair ? We can take a holiday, and I will have a 
hamper packed. It won’t be so bad, really.” 


828 


WITH GAUGE ^ SWALLOW. 


The old man’s face glowed with anticipation. 

Of course I did not object. The fates were kind, and the weather 
was propitious. An evening ride up the river, a night at a hotel over- 
looking its placid waters, a tramp over the hills in the early morning, 
and we were hidden in a little glen whose sides were bright with blossom- 
ing laurel, while maple and hemlock almost met overhead, and a spark- 
ling little stream fell down from a spring among the rocks above. 
There was a narrow open space between the laurels and the alders on 
its banks, where the sun looked in and the grass grew soft with a fringe 
of tender ferns around it. Here we spent our holiday. 

The hamper was opened long before the sun reached the meridian, 
for our early walk had given us an appetite. Heavens, what a feast 
the good old man had provided ! I knew the basket was well stocked, 
but had no idea of the luxuries it contained. I do not think I have 
ever tasted a better meal. We ate and drank and were merry. He 
had brought two small bottles of wine carefully packed in a wicker 
case, which he would trust to no hand but his own. How tenderly he 
drew them out and placed them at just the right angle in the sunshine ! 
I am no connoisseur, having seldom tasted wine ; but I shall never 
forget the glimmer of the sunshine through the purple juice. He said 
it was a royal wine, which ought never to have been dethroned ; that it 
should be drunk at just blood-heat, that its generous warmth might the 
more easily mingle with the life-tide it enriched. How carefully he 
turned the bottles, now and then, shading them from the direct rays 
that they might not gather too much of their force ! How tenderly he 
decanted one, reserving the other until the hour of departure ! How 
like a ruby’s heart the liquid glowed in the little shell-like glasses he 
had brought in a velvet-lined case ! There was not enough to drink, 
— just a bit to sip as we discussed our dinner. It was even doubtful 
whether eye or palate felt most its delight. He told me what vintage 
it was, but I have forgotten. He had never tasted it before, he said, 
but had long promised himself this indulgence. Then he told me of 
little jaunts when he was but an office-boy and carried his bread and 
cheese in his pocket ; how when he became a clerk he saved his pence 
all the year for a day or two in midsummer fields, — his only luxury. 
I did not wonder at the placid contentment of his age as I listened. 
And I too was content. This was not the country life I hated. 

I think I had never been so happy before. Everything was so 
quiet ; the sunlight through the leaves was so soft ; the laurel-blossoms 
showed so fair through the tender sprays of the shooting hemlocks; 
the birds sang ; the bees hummed, and the world was so far away ! 
Words cannot tell my supreme content as I lit my cigar and lay back 
among the odorous ferns to smoke and dream. 

Did I ever tell you about my case ?” 

The voice seemed to come from very far away, but I roused myself 
to listen and reply. Indeed, it was no effort to do so. It was only 
passing from one dream to another. 

Your case ? What do you mean ?” 

Perhaps you did not know that I was an attorney The old 
man’s face flushed red as he spoke. 


WITH GAUGE # SWALLOW 


829 


No, indeed/^ I answered. Was it in the old country 

By no means/^ was the emphatic reply. Small chance for one 
who starts as an office-boy there, even if he knows law enough for the 
wool-sack. True, there is a rumor of one that rose from the office-stool 
to the judge’s bench ; but that was a good while ago, and he found rich 
friends to push him. I used to dream of that sort of thing, and some- 
times hoped for a little of it, — a barrister’s gown, perhaps, — but it 
didn’t come my way. I suppose I wasn’t big enough to fill it. I 
studied hard, though, and learned the law, — the cases, you know, — so 
that there wasn’t a barrister in my knowledge that didn’t like to see 
my hand on a brief, if I do say it. Of course I got fair wages then ; 
but I was only a clerk, and could hope for nothing else. That’s why 
I came to America. I thought I could make a living in any country 
where the common law prevailed, and I didn’t know — well, perhaps I 
was foolish. It’s hard for a man that’s been a clerk till past forty to 
be anything else afterwards, and I suppose I wasn’t made for anything 
better.” 

The old man spoke regretfully, and fell to meditating when he 
ceased. To divert his attention from what seemed sorrowful recollec- 
tions, I asked, — 

‘‘ You have been with Mr. Gauge ever since you landed, haven’t 
you ?” 

Pretty nigh. I hadn’t been here more than a fortnight when I 
set in with him.” 

How did it happen ?” 

Curiously enough, it came out of that same kind of cases he was 
telling us about, — what they called ^ rendition cases,’ you know, — about 
^ fugitives from service.’ I didn’t know anything about slavery, nor 
care anything about it either, as a fact. I hadn’t any sort of sympathy 
with the negro, and didn’t care anything about the Republic then. It 
was the legal relation of slavery that interested me. I didn’t once 
suppose that the law supported and maintained the ^ peculiar institu- 
tion,’ as it was called. 

I had a notion it was like what they call ^ business’ on the ex- 
changes, — stocks, and produce, and petroleum, you know, — which is no 
more business than betting at a faro-table. Everybody knows it to be 
illegal, but it goes on year after year, covering billions of dollars in the 
aggregate, and claiming to be business while it actually is gambling. 
The law doesn’t encourage nor protect it, and won’t enforce that sort 
of contracts ; but the law doesn’t stop it, so that the best brain and 
nerve of the country, and about half its capital, is diverted from real 
business, legitimate production and healthful exchange, into speculation, 
which is the most pernicious form of gambling, until business has come 
to be at a discount, and our banks would rather back a gambler than a 
manufacturer. 

Now, I had an idea that this was something the way it was with 
slavery, — that the law winked at it rather than approved it. I don’t 
know how I got this notion, I am sure. It was writ down in all the 
books plain enough, but somehow I didn’t seem to sense it. It wasn’t 
the facty you see, but the legality of it that hurt me. I didn’t care any 

Yol. XLI.— 53 


830 


WITH GAUGE ^ SWALLOW, 


more about the ^ nigger’ than I did about the poor in London ; but I 
could not realize that the law should actually make and keep him a 
^ nigger’ or a slave, any more than I could think it possible that the 
law should openly declare that the poor should always remain poor. I 
w^as awful green, wasn’t I ?” he asked, with a quiet smile. 

I told him I did not at all wonder at his feelings, as I had myself 
never been able to realize the fact to which he referred. 

I’ve often wondered,” he rejoined, what you youngsters thought 
about the matter. I suppose the generation that comes on a hundred 
years from now will really know more about slavery than you do, and 
probably understand its tendencies better. Well, I didn’t care any- 
thing about the institution as a fact of anybody’s life or a factor of 
any civilization ; but I took a fancy to Mr. Gauge, don’t you know, 
because I thought he was resenting the idea of the law being made the 
instrument of oppressing or degrading anybody. I heard him in one 
of those cases. He was a young man then, younger than I, slender, 
quiet, and very particular in his dress. There wasn’t any dust on his 
broadcloth. He was as brave as a lion, though, and hadn’t any hesi- 
tation about speaking his opinion. He didn’t make much noise, — 
the fellows on the other side did the shouting in those cases, — but he 
never forgot what the law ought to be, in trying to find out what it 
was. He understood its tendencies, as well as its decisions. That is 
what makes him a great lawyer, — one of the greatest of his day, — though 
he never made a speech that anybody outside of the profession ever 
cared to listen to. 

I took a notion to him from the start, — thought he was the very 
man for me to ^ tie to,’ as you youngsters say. And so he was ; and 
Mr. Swallow is another. One just supplements the other, so that they 
make the perfect firm, — the very ideal of a legal partnership, — though 
it isn’t what I once hoped to see. I went to him and set in with him 
for a year. He was cautious, — always is, you know, — said I was just 
the man he wanted, but he wasn’t able to pay what I was worth. 
Finally, it was agreed that I should have a certain share of what he 
received, — that w^as after I had been with him a number of months ; 
and the terms were never changed, until Mr. Swallow came in, and 
then only to make it a little better for me.” 

Why, Mr. Burrill !” I exclaimed, in surprise, you don’t mean to 
say you are a partner ?” 

No,” he answered, I am not : I am simply employed for a share 
of the profits.” 

But you said you had been admitted to the bar.” 

Whether I said so or not, I was, and have as good a right to put 
^ Attorney and Counsellor at Law and Solicitor in Chancery’ after 
my name as anybody that sports a gold-lettered sign on his door in 
Wall Street. You’ll find my name on the roll, if you ever chance to 
look, though it has never been printed among the attorneys in the 
directory, — only Thomas H. Burrill, Clerk.” 

But how does it happen that nobody knows it ?” 

Well, you see, Mr. Gauge wanted me to be admitted and be his 
partner in fact. So as soon as I had declared my intention to become 


WITH GAUGE ^ SWALLOW, 


831 


a citizen — filed my first papers, you know — I was examined and ad- 
mitted. In the very first case where my name appeared, the counsel on 
the other side raised the question of my admissibility. It was a new 
question then, and rather than delay the case to fight it we dissolved, 
and I went back to my clerkship again. I was duly admitted, though, 
and of course after I was fully naturalized the objection would not 
lie ; but I never act as an attorney except now and then in an emer- 
gency. I suppose you thought I was tolerated inside the bar by cour- 
tesy, and many of the profession probably think so too. The judges 
and some of the older practitioners know better.^^ 

But you have never practised, — taken any cases, I mean, — except 
for the firm 

Well, no, not to my practice. I did have one case — Mr. Gauge 
calls it ‘ BurrilFs case^ yet — that I thought a good deal of. Queer 
enough, it came out of those fugitive-slave cases. As I said, I never 
could understand the legal idea of slavery. Well, one day along about 
the close of the war a young fellow came in and stated a case to me 
while I was alone in the office, and I promised to take it. When Mr. 
Gauge and Mr. Swallow came in I laid it before them. It was a claim 
of title to certain real property in one of the Southern States, worth all 
the way from five to ten thousand dollars, according to circumstances. 
The claimant wanted Gauge & Swallow to advance the costs and prose- 
cute the case for a contingent, — a share in the recovery, you know. 

It wasn’t a sure thing by any means, but Mr. Swallow was for 
taking it and running the risk, declaring it to be a ^ lovely case.’ I 
think he would have been willing to try it for nothing, just to get a 
chance to handle the questions it involved. But Mr. Gauge stood off 
I’ve noticed he gets more and more cautious the older he grows. He 
said it would be a great expense, consume a deal of time, and it was 
very uncertain what would be the outcome. He was sorry for the 
claimants, but ‘ G. & S.’ didn’t practise law for charity. I had become 
interested in the matter, and, besides that, I didn’t like the way he 
talked about it. I thought he meant to imply that I had no business 
to undertake it. So I said that if they would let me use the firm’s 
name for once, I would do the work and advance the funds myself. 

Oh, you needn’t be surprised. I haven’t been sharing with Mr. 
Gauge for thirty years not to have a nest-egg of my own. It wouldn’t 
have hurt me to lose the cost and travelling-expenses a dozen times 
over. They were willing enough to do this, and Mr. Swallow said that 
when I got it ready for trial he would go down and argue it for me.” 

What was the case ?” 

It wasn’t ever reported,” said the old man, as a look of disap- 
pointment flitted over his face ; it wasn’t even tried. If it had been, 
Mr. Fountain, you wouldn’t ever have manifested surprise at my having 
been admitted to the bar. If that case had been tried and gone to the 
Supreme Court, — as it was sure to have done if it had come to trial, — 
it’s the simple truth, if I do say it, that it would have made my name 
familiar to the entire bar of the country. A lawyer would have been 
ashamed not to know of me. Instead of being a sort of silent partner 
then, the sign on our door would have read, ^ Gauge, Swallow & Bur- 


832 


WITH GAUGE ^ SWALLOW, 


rill/ It wasn’t to be, though, and I suppose it’s best. I’d have been 
glad to see it, — just once before I died. It’s all I ever wanted, — for 
myself, that is.” 

What was there remarkable about your case ?” I asked, to bring 
him back from his regretful mood. 

Remarkable ! About my case he exclaimed, quickly. Why, 
there was everything remarkable about it. It contained more new 
questions, and harder and knottier ones, than ever came before a court 
at one time since judges took to wearing gowns. Why, sir, Hhe rule 
in Shelley’s case’ wasn’t a circumstance beside it for complexity, and 
the Dartmouth College case, the Chesapeake Canal case, the Dred Scott 
decision, the Legal Tender cases, and the Slaughter House cases, all 
put together, did not present as many nor as dilBcult constitutional 
questions as my case! Just think of that, sir! You ought to see the 
fcef I made for the Supreme Court : I’ll show it to you some time. 
I was sure it would go there, you see, and it would if I had not been a 
fool. Such a chance comes but once in a lifetime. But I was a fool, 
that is what I was, — a miserable, weak old fool !” 

How did it happen ? You didn’t get nonsuited, did you ?” 

Nonsuited ! Young man, I’ve a good mind to brain you for that ! 
I believe I would if I were sure you had brain enough to feel the loss 1 
Why, youngster, I was fifty-odd years old when I made that brief, and 
Gauge & Swallow’s name was on the papers ! And you talk about 
a non-suit !” 

I am sure I beg your pardon ; I was only in fun,” I ventured to 

say. 

^^Fun! Mr. Fountain, one would think you were from Boston. 
That is exactly the Boston idea of wit. Just let me give you a state- 
ment of the case, — a syllabus of it as it ought to have appeared in the 
Reports. I told you it grew out of slavery, and you will see how it 
enabled me to understand slavery as a legal fact — a mighty juridical 
force — as I never had before. This was the case : 

A, living in a slave State, sold B and her children (who were also 
his children) to C, who brought them to New York and manumitted 
them in 1857. In 1859, A died, bequeathing realty in the State of 
his residence to B and her children for their joint lives, with remain- 
der to successive survivors. The statutes of the State forbade the man- 
umission of slaves except by leave of court, and the heirs insisted that 
the sale to C was without consideration, in fraud of the statute, and the 
manumission in New York void as against the heirs. B and her chil- 
dren, being free persons of color, were also prohibited from entering the 
State under penalty of being sold into slavery, and consequently could 
not take actual possession — possessio pedis, you know — of the devised 
realty. Two years after — in 1861, that is — came on the war. In 
1863 the State, then a part of the Confederacy, sold the lands for non- 
payment of taxes, and they were bought by the heirs, who also claimed 
the specific bequest to be invalid to pass title. After the close of the 
war, B and her children brought suit for possession. 

That was my case fairly shouted the old man. What do you 
think of it ?” he continued, with a vehemence that startled me. Isn’t 


WITH GAUGE ^ SWALLOW. 


833 


it just bristling with points? How it would have puzzled the big- 
wigs at Washington ! There it is^ an epitome of our political history, 
— slavery, freedom, — war, peace, — the Union, the Confederacy, — State 
rights and national supremacy, — every possible complexity of right and 
relation that our dual civilization and dual form of government could 
evolve, presented in one splendid, incomparable case ! 

How I studied it ! Lord love you, how I did study it ! Every 
possible question that could arise in it I worked out and fortified with 
authorities. Heavens ! w^hat a sensation Mr. Swallow would have 
made before the Supreme Court of the United States with that brief ! 
Of course I should have let him argue it, but my name would have 
been on the brief. ^ Gauge & Swallow for the appellant, with brief by 
Mr. Burrill.’ That^s the way it would have appeared. And such a 
brief! Oh, I learned all about slavery as a legal fact in preparing that 
brief! The most astonishing legal fact the world ever knew, it was, 
too. It destroyed all the pride I had in the common law, all the confi- 
dence I might ever have had in any system of judicature as a safeguard 
of individual liberty. The idea is a delusion and a snare, a humbug, 
Mr. Fountain, a humbug ! There was the law, the common law of 
England in its purity. Never was it more subtly and ably expounded 
than by the judges of those States. And there was slavery, — side by 
side with it, — not only tolerated, but regulated, enforced, and strength- 
ened by it. It was horrible ! I didn’t care anything about the negro ; 
but the law, my idol, don’t you see ! what I had always worshipped 
as the* essence of right, that this should sustain and nourish the wrong! 
I didn’t mind its failure to correct evils ; but the sustentation of wrong ! 
— that almost killed me ! I felt neither anger towards the master nor 
pity for the slave. They were mere creatures of the law, and the law 
I had imagined so divine a thing, — it was a mere creature of popular 
impulse, collective inclination, — ^the willing agent of right or wrong as 
chance might determine ! 

That is how I felt as I studied my case; but by and by I worked 
it all out, found the little thread, the golden thread that runs through 
all the law, is stronger than all the coarsely-knotted ligaments of human 
desire, and runs back to truth, to essential truth, absolute truth ! I 
worked it all out and put it in my brief. Man ! man ! what a chance 
was lost, not for me only, but for the court, for the world, for the law ! 
And all by my stupidity !” 

The old man’s excited volubility almost terrified me. I could 
understand something of his feeling, though. He had worshipped the 
law. The gown of the barrister had seemed to him the grandest deco- 
ration ever worn by a human being, unless it were a judge’s wdg. 
Modest, yet imaginative, he had longed, but never hoped, to be a practi- 
tioner. Naturally, he had accepted the self-glorification of the profes- 
sion for literal fact. As his knowledge increased, this impression had 
been enhanced by constant study of legal works. This had been the 
passion of his life, — to read the law, — to know all that had been de- 
cided. Well might Theophilus Gauge, the young and ambitious lawyer, 
make a silent partner of this living depository of legal lore, whose 
brain was an ever-ready digest of cases. 


834 


WITH GAUGE ^ SWALLOW. 


Eealizing more than ever the value of his good will, I asked, with 
a show of sympathy which was not entirely assumed, — 

But why was the case not tried, Mr. Burrill 

Because I was a fool he answered, angrily. Served me right, 
too ! I had no business to try to be anything but a clerk, — a drudge ! 

Because But I will tell you all about it. You see, the case was 

ready to be set down for hearing, the parties had all been brought in, the 
pleadings made up, the depositions taken, and we were ready for trial. 
So I went down to bring it on if possible. It was a very busy time, 
and I was to get a day set and then telegraph for Mr. Swallow to come 
on. It was thought I would have no difficulty in this, considering the 
general willingness of the profession to oblige each other. I felt very 
nervous about it, however, chiefly because it was my ease, I suppose, 
though it stood in the firm’s name. 

Well, on my arrival I found everything just the other way from 
what we expected. The gentlemen who appeared for the respondents 
were polite enough, but would not talk about the case. When I ex- 
plained to them my position with regard to Mr. Swallow, they merely 
said they couldn’t help it. They would try, they said, when they had 
to, and, under the circumstances, could not grant any favors nor make 
any stipulations. If a lot of ungrateful ^niggers’ chose to try and 
take from their old master’s family all that the war had left them, why, 
if that was law, they would have to submit, but they would not favor 
any such attempt, and I, of course, would not expect them to. 

This was a new view of the matter to me, who had thought our 
clients’ position a peculiarly meritorious one. It surprised and almost 
shocked me, but I soon found that everybody in that region had the 
same notion, w'hich, after all, is not so unreasonable as it might seem. 
When I appealed to the court I found the judge just as little inclined 
to show favor as the counsel for the defence. So I stayed on, paying 
our witnesses from day to day. Meantime, it was intimated to me by 
the sheriff, who was one of those bluff men who are always ready to 
volunteer advice as to other people’s affairs, that it would be a good 
thing to associate one of the resident bar in the case. We intended to 
do so, of course, but I rather preferred to have Mr. Swallow make his 
own selection. However, as I got tired of staying and hoped we 
might get at least a continuance thereby, I began to think of adopting 
the suggestion. You see, I had given up all thought of a trial at that 
term. 

“The question was who to retain. There was a member of the 
bar of that county to whom I had brought a letter of introduction 
from Mr. Gauge, who had been opposed to him in one of those old 
rendition cases. He was a small, precise man, with a long pointed 
beard just beginning to be streaked with gray, who wore white clothes, 
— for it was summer weather there, though a chilly spring-time here, — 
a green-underlined Panama hat, and black, knitted gloves, or mitts, I 
think they are called, which did not quite reach the ends of the fingers. 
He received me politely enough, but was, I thought, constrained almost 
to coldness. This, indeed, was the demeanor of the entire bar towards 
me. I had heard so much of their hospitality that I was surprised at 


WITH GAUGE ^ SWALLOW, 


835 


this, until I learned the feeling entertained for the business on which I 
came. Mr. Gauge had advised me to offer this Colonel Baylor a re- 
tainer as soon as I arrived ; but, as it was my case and there seemed to 
be no hurry about the matter, I determined to bide my time and see 
whom I might prefer. As the days wore on, I noticed that Colonel 
Baylor, though evidently very highly esteemed by his brethren at the 
bar, did not seem to be overburdened with business, nor was he es- 
pecially successful in what he had. Naturally, this fact did not incline 
me towards him, and I had about made up my mind to associate an- 
other, the real leader of the bar, one Mr. Faison, a man of most ad- 
mirable qualities, when one morning I was astonished to hear him 
address the court as follows : 

‘ If your Honor please, the case of Holt d al. vs, Baylor is a suit 
in equity, set down for hearing at this term. The action was brought 
against my brother Baylor at his own request. The petitioners, for 
whom I appear, are certain freedmen, late the property of Israel Holt, 
deceased, formerly a well-known citizen of this county. They allege a 
secret trust for their benefit between the said Holt and my brother Bay- 
lor, who was his residuary legatee. The averment is that in 18G3 the 
said Holt, desiring to manumit and provide for the petitioners, and being 
unable to do so because of the war between the States then pending, 
bequeathed the petitioners to my brother Baylor, and made him also his 
residuary legatee, upon a secret trust and understanding that the re- 
siduum, amounting to several thousand dollars, should be applied to 
the liberation and maintenance of said petitioners, who therefore de- 
n^and a declaration of the trust, and an accounting of the fund received 
under it. 

^ The answer of my brother Baylor admits these allegations. In- 
deed, it was upon his voluntary disclosure that the same were made. 
He admits, also, the receipt of the fund, its investment in Confederate 
securities, and its consequent entire loss on the downfall of that govern- 
ment. Certain questions will be raised, not by Colonel Baylor, but by 
counsel for the heirs of Holt, who have been made parties, as to the 
competency of the cestuis que trust. In case the court should sustain 
the petition. Colonel Baylor, it is understood, will offer propositions of 
settlement which will need to be approved by the court. The only 
doubt that can arise in regard to them, I imagine, will be that they are 
so liberal as to seem a positive wrong to Colonel Baylor and his family. 
Indeed, I desire to say that while I shall do my duty as the represen- 
tative of the petitioners, whose ignorance makes them especially fit sub- 
jects for the protection of a court of equity, I do it solely at the instance 
of Colonel Baylor, whose course in the matter seems to me to be inspired 
by an overstrained sense of honor, which, though I cannot but admire, 
I most heartily regret.^ 

There was a dead silence in the court. All eyes were turned upon 
the little man with the gray beard, who sat bolt upright in front of the 
judge, the ends of his white fingers showing through the black gloves 
as his hands lay crossed on the end of a file of papers resting on his 
knee. The fine line of his lip, showing under his moustache, was a 
little drawn, but there was no other evidence that he was at all con- 


836 


WITH GAUGE ^ SWALLOW. 


scions of the curious, admiring, and pitiful glances that were turned 
upon him from all sides. 

^^^It has been deemed best,’ continued Mr. Faison, ^to ask the 
court to send the case to a master, to report both upon the questions 
arising and the compromise offered by Colonel Baylor ; and the coun- 
sel for the parties have agreed, on account of the peculiar charac-^ 
ter of this case, if it should be agreeable to the court and to him, to 
ask your Honor to name as such referee Mr. Thomas H. Burrill, of 
New York, who is in attendance upon our court, and, because of his 
entire freedom from bias, better fitted, perhaps, to define the equities of 
such a case than those reared under influences that might seem detri- 
mental to the petitioners.’ 

^ I wish to say,’ he continued, with a gesture intended to forestall 
my declination, ^ that this is the especial wish of Colonel Baylor, as he 
desires the record to show beyond all possible cavil the perfect bona 
Jides which we who are honored by his acquaintance would expect to 
characterize any act of his.’ 

There were evidences of approval amounting almost to applause 
as Mr. Faison sat down. I was never so surprised in my life. When 
I rose to decline there was a universal murmur of dissent, and both the 
judge and the counsel for the heirs urged me to accept. 

Of course, under these circumstances it would have been simple 
boorishness to persist in my declination. I heard the case. My report 
is on file in the court now, signed ^ Burrill, Master.’ The decree sub- 
mitted by the referee was signed by the judge without alteration or 
amendment. 

^^What did I decide? What could one decide? Baylor was a 
fool ; there is no doubt about that ; but a man has an inalienable right 
to be a fool if he chooses. He believed in the Confederacy, first, last, 
and all the time ; believes in it now, I think. He ^ sold all that he had,’ 
and followed it, too, like a true believer. Land and slaves he converted 
into Confederate bonds, not only as a matter of patriotic duty, but be- 
cause he believed them to be good. As a result, the surrender left him 
a useless sword, a tattered uniform, a few law-books, and a house and 
lot in the village, in which his wife held a right of dower. In the face 
of these things, with a wife and three or four children to support, what 
do you suppose this man proposed to do, — nay, had already done, and 
only waited for the court to say it was enough for him to do ? First, he 
acknowledged the secret trust. Nobody had suspected it. As a friend 
of Holt’s, and his legal adviser, it was thought very natural that the 
decedent should leave him a bequest. He then insisted on being held 
responsible for the loss of the fund, and offered in discharge of this 
self-imposed liability — what do you suppose? The very house in 
which he lived, — practically all that he had, — free of his wife’s dower, 
too, which she had voluntarily relinquished ! 

Nothing ever took away my breath like that ! Of course I de- 
cided the points of law as he wished them. In fact, he was right; 
everybody felt that instinctively. So the transfer was made, and the 
man stripped himself of everything to perform his obligation to his 
dead friend, — even becoming a tenant at will in his own house ! It 


WITH GAUGE ^ SWALLOW. 837 

was wonderful! I said something of the kind to him after it was 
over. 

Well, you see/ he answered, ^Holt was very anxious about the 
children. He had some scruples, perhaps, about their being held as 
slaves by others, — they were his, you know, — and I agreed to do for 
them just as I thought he would if he had lived. It\s been on my 
conscience ever since I knew the fund was irretrievably lost. Now I 
have done what I could. I don^t think he would expect me to do 
more, and I could not in honor do less.^ 

‘ But your family f I suggested. 

^ They believe in mey he said, with a smile. ^ I can go to work 

now.’ 

Did you ever hear anything like it ?” 

But what had that to do with your case 

3Iy case! Well, you see, that was continued the very day my 
report was filed. I started home the day after, leaving authority for 
Baylor to act for us, and enclosing a check for five hundred dollars,” 
said the old man, shamefacedly. 

I am sure that was handsome,” I exclaimed, as heartily as I could, 
owing to a huskiness in my throat. The fact is, I was so proud of the 
old man that my eyes were filled with tears. 

^^It wasn’t business,” answered Burrill, meekly. ^^Mr. Gauge 
would never have slopped over in that way.” 

I hope you never regretted it,” I said. 

Oh, no ; not so far as the money was concerned : the man deserved 
that. He acknowledged it like a gentleman, too, not like a beggar. 
Man, what a letter it was he wrote me ! — 

^ SiK, — 

^ I have to acknowledge your letter with power of attorney to act 
in Rives vs. Southard according to discretion ; also the very liberal draft 
you enclosed. I hope I may be able to justify your confidence. 

“ ^ Sincerely yours, 

Joseph Bayloe.’ 

^^That was all; not another word. Just as if five-hundred-dollar 
drafts were as common with him as corn-bread for breakfast ! Well, I 
liked him all the better for it, though I never could have done it in his 
place. He set to work to earn his fee without loss of time, too ; but it 
was a most unfortunate investment for me,” Mr. Burrill added, with a 
sigh, — most unfortunate !” 

“ How so ?” 

How so ? Why, the next I heard from him — it was less than a 
month afterwards — he wrote that, owing to the good impression I had 
made on the people of that region, he had been able to compromise my 
case ! Think of it ! Compromise a case like that 1 Did you ever 
hear of such an outrage ?” 

I should think that would depend on the terms,” I ventured to 
reply. 

Terms I Oh, they were good enough. He got three thousand 


838 


INCREDULITY. 


live hundred dollars and costs, which was no doubt a good deal more 
than our clients would have realized under execution. Besides that, he 
wrote that he had taken as part of the compromise an assignment of 
a claim which he thought would prove valuable. He suggested that, 
as our clients would probably prefer cash, we might take this as part 
of our fee and allow him to bring suit for it, without charge, in special 
acknowledgment of my liberality to him.’’ 

And did it prove valuable ?” I asked. 

Yes, it promises to. That assignment, you see, is the basis of the 
case Burrill et al. vs. The Kailroad Co. Yes, it bids fair to yield money 
enough; but I would gladly have lost the whole recovery to have had 
my case tried.” 

Albion W. Tour gee. 


INCREDULITY. 

Y OU love my soul ? It may be so ; 

But answer me, and speak the truth : 
What spark can kindle passion’s glow 
Apart from youth ? 

If I were changed by time and care. 
Grown old, and sorrow- wise, and cold. 
With silver gleaming from my hair 
In place of gold. 

And all this lovely outward mask 
Of bloom and freshness laid aside. 

The while my soul, by toil and task ^ 
Thrice purified. 

Strong in her immortality. 

Made beautiful by love and trust, 

Eager, as prisoned bird, to flee 
Her house of dust, — 

Oh, you — would you come sighing still. 

In hope and fear, heart-gifts to bring ? 

A master kneeling to my will, 

A servant who would fain be king ? 

And would you covet day by day 

My lightest word, and look, and touch ? 
Ah, friend, forgive me if I say, 

I doubt it much ! 


Mary Ainge Be Vere. 


MR. RUSKIN^S GUILD OF ST, GEORGE. 


839 


MR. BUSKIN’S GUILD OF ST. GEORGE. 

A t a time when the severe illness of Mr. Ruskin warns us that the 
master-critic of the day is not for long with us, the latest and 
perhaps the last report of the Master of St. George’s Guild” acquires 
exceptional interest. It suggests that the time is fitting for a brief 
review of Mr. Ruskin’s interesting but comparatively little- known 
attempt at founding a society whose example might leaven the alleged 
moral rottenness of the age and help its intellectual poverty. People 
know more or less adequately that Ruskin did found such a society 
under the title The Guild of St. George,” and that a community of 
a few enthusiasts talked of beginning life under conditions much at 
variance with our every-day practice. But beyond this little is gener- 
ally known. For the last dozen years it has been Mr. Ruskin’s custom, 
as Master of the Guild, to report to its members the condition of his 
trust. The last report, which is dated January, 1886, since when none 
later has been issued so far as I know, is so^despondent in tone that it 
is virtually a confession of failure, and presages the abandonment of 
one of the most curious socialistic schemes of the century, radically 
different from the many communistic experiments made in this country 
because essayed by Englishmen and men of more or less social culture. 
In this latest report, now before me, Mr. Ruskin says, — 

^^I thought when, following Carlyle’s grander exhortation to the 
English landholders in ^ Past and Present,’ I put these thoughts (con- 
cerning the necessity of making a stand against the moral degradation 
of the English people) with reiterated and varied emphasis forward in 
connection with a definite scheme of action, at a time when for want of 
any care of teaching from their landlords the peasantry were far and 
wide allowing iffiemselves to be betrayed into socialism, that at least a 
few wise and kindly-hearted Englishmen would have come forward to 
help me, and that in a year or two enough would have understood the 
design to justify me in the anticipations which at that time, having had 
no experience of the selfishness of my countrymen, I allowed to color 
with too great aspect of romance tlie earlier numbers of Fors Clavigera. 
That during the fifteen years which have now elapsed since it was be- 
gun, only two people of means — both my personal friends, Mrs. Talbot 
and Mr. Baker — should have come forward to help me, is, as I have said 
in the last issue of ForSy I well know in great part my own fault ; but 
also amazing to me beyond anything I have read in history in its proof of 
the hard-heartedness incident to the pursuit of wealth. . . . More strangely 
still, they have held back from me in my endeavors to make useful to 
the British public the especial talents which that public credits me with. 
It is admitted that I know good pictures from bad, and that my expla- 
nations of them are interesting. It is admitted that I know good archi- 
tecture from bad, and that my own drawings of it, and those executed 
under my directions by my pupils, are authoritative in their record 
of the beauty of buildings which are every hour being destroyed. I 


840 


MR, RUSKIN^S GUILD OF ST. GEORGE, 


offered to arrange a museum — and, if the means were given me, a series 
of museums — for the English people, in which, whether by cast, photo- 
graph, or skilled drawing, they should be shown examples of all the 
most beautiful art of the Christian world. I did enough to show what 
I meant, and to make its usefulness manifest. I may boldly say that 
every visitor, of whatever class, to the little Walkley Museum, taking 
any real interest in art, has acknowledged the interest and value even 
of the things collected in its single room. And yet year after year 
passes, and not a single reader or friend has thought it the least incum- 
bent on them to help me to do more ; and from the whole continent of 
America, which pirates all my books and disgraces me by base copies 
of the plates of them, I have never had a sixpence sent to help me in 
anything I wanted to do. 

Now, I will not stand this any more. To young people needing 
advice, and willing to take it, I remain as accessible as ever, — though it 
may often be impossible for me, in mere want of strength and time, to 
reply to their letters ; but to the numbers of people who write to ex- 
press their gratitude to me, I have only this one general word : send 
your gratitude in the form of pence, or do not trouble me with it ; and 
to my personal friends, that it seems to me high time their affection 
should take that form also, as it is the only one by which they can also 
prove their respect.^^ 

In other parts of this report, to which I shall have occasion to recur, 
Mr. Ruskin proposes modifications of the original terms of member- 
ship to the Guild, which he seemingly hopes will attract new members ; 
but such suggestions are thrown out with no apparent faith in their 
efficacy. 

The public has heard less of the essential than of the minor and 
somewhat fantastic details of the St. George^s Guild scheme. They have 
been used to regard Mr. Ruskin — when they thought of him as any- 
thing else than a great art-critic — as one who had lost all patience with 
the world, and who had gone utterly wrong in his views about the cur- 
rency ; he was childish about railways, machinery, and the sacred right 
of getting the best interest you could for your money ; he was a hater 
of liberty and progress, yet positively no better than a communist if all 
that was said of this brotherhood of his were true. Let us see, then, 
what the members of the Guild of St. George really set out to do, and 
how far they went in the new path which Mr. Ruskin opened out for 
them. It was in the series of letters to workingmen, issued under the 
title Fors Clavigera^ that Mr. Ruskin, in 1874, first outlined his idea 
of a society or guild of persons willing to set an example to the rest of 
the world. He found that the world was in a bad way, but he was 
tired of railing ; he had preached tearing down, but no one listened. 
When he proposed, in January, 1871, to destroy most of the railroads 
of England and all those of Wales, to destroy and rebuild the Houses 
of Parliament, to destroy and not rebuild a great many towns and cities, 
— among others. New York, — people had only laughed, and went on 
building more railways and abominations of brick and mortar. In- 
stead of railing, he resolved to call together those who believed in him 
and show the world that people could live more happily without the 


MR. RUSKIN'S GUILD OF ST. GEORGE. 


841 


cheap-jack machinery of modern English life than with it. Art had 
disappeared from the life of the English peasant ; Mr. Euskin would 
bring it back. The English taste in literature was appalling ; he had 
heard a girl of eleven years asking an elder who was reading the news- 
paper, If you please, has anybody been hanged this week ? or any- 
thing V’ and he resolved to give at least a few children different aspira- 
tions. In his belief, selfishness, vanity, and practical atheism had 
wholly undermined the framework of the social order, degraded labor, 
and destroyed art. Those of his readers to whom acquiescence in such 
a state of things was intolerable were asked to form a guild, the ob- 
ject of which is to be the health, wealth, and long life of the British 
nation,^^ or, as he puts it elsewhere, to buy or obtain by gift land in 
England, and thereon to train into the healthiest and most refined life 
possible as many Englishmen, Englishwomen, and English children as 
the land so possessed can maintain in comfort ; to establish for them 
and their descendants a national store of continually augmenting wealth ; 
and to organize the government of the persons and administration of 
the properties, under laws which shall be just to all and secure in their 
inviolable foundation on the law of God. The rents of such lands, 
although they will be required from the tenants as strictly as those of 
any other estates, will differ from common rents in being lowered in- 
stead of raised in proportion to every improvement made by the tenant ; 
secondly, in that they will be used entirely for the benefit of the ten- 
antry themselves, or better culture of the estates, no money being ever 
taken by the landlords unless they earn it by their owm personal labor. 
Machinery is not rejected for work beyond human strength, such as the 
raising of water from great depths, etc. Schools and museums,^^ he 
continued, always small and instantly serviceable, will be multiplying 
among the villages, youth after youth being instructed in the proper 
laws of justice, patriotism, and domestic happiness.^^ There was to be 
no equality in St. George’s domain, no competitive examinations,” — 
here we come to the educational side of the scheme, — but, contrariwise, 
absolute prohibition of all violent or strained effort — most of all envi- 
ous or anxious effort — in every exercise of body and mind.” Words- 
worth’s line, We live by admiration, hope, and love,” seems to repre- 
sent Mr. Ruskin’s mind w^hen dealing with education : All boys shall 
learn either to ride or sail ; children shall learn, in the history of five 
cities, — Athens, Rome, Venice, Florence, and London, — so far as they 
can understand, what has been beautifully and bravely done ; and they 
shall know the lives of the heroes and heroines in truth and naturalness ; 
and shall be taught to remember the greatest of them on the days of 
their birth and death, so that the year shall have its full calendar of 
reverent Memory ; and on every day part of their morning service shall 
be a song in honor of the hero whose birthday it is, and part of their 
evening service a song of triumph for the fair death of one whose death- 
day it is ; and in their first learning of notes they shall be taught the 
great purpose of music, which is to say a thing which you mean deeply 
in the strongest and clearest possible way.” 

One cardinal feature of the plan was the keeping in view of the 
truth that manual labor — ^with tools, not machines — was of value to 


842 


MR. RUSKIN'S GUILD OF ST. GEORGE. 


the mind. The thought of the studious person was to be made whole- 
some by bodily toil, the toil of the laborer noble by elevated thought. 
Mr. Kuskin had no kind word for occupations incompatible with bodily 
labor : scholars, painters, and musicians,’^ he says, may be advisedly 
kept on due pittance, to instruct and amuse the laborer at or after his 
work, provided the duty be severely restricted to those who have high 
special gifts of voice, touch, and imagination. No great arts were 
practised by any people, unless they were living contented lives, in pure 
air, out of the way of unsightly objects, and emancipated from un- 
necessary mechanical occupation.^^ The Guild was originally founded,^^ 
he says, in the Master^s Report for 1882, ‘‘with the intention of show- 
ing how much food-producing land might be recovered by well-applied 
labor from the barren or neglected districts of nominally cultivated 
countries. With this primary aim, two ultimate objects of wdder range 
were connected : the leading one, to show what tone and degree of re- 
fined education could be given to persons maintaining themselves by 
agricultural labor ; and the last, to convince some portion of the upper 
classes of society that such occupation w^as more honorable and consistent 
with higher thoughts and nobler pleasures than their at present favorite 
profession of war ; and that the course of social movements must ulti- 
mately compel many to adopt it, — if willingly, then happily both for 
themselves and their dependants, — if resistingly, through much distress, 
and disturbance of all healthy relations between the master and paid 
laborer.^^ Persons proposing to become members were asked to con- 
tribute a tithe of their income to the objects of the society, having the 
right to decide to which of four purposes the money was to be applied, — 
agricultural labor, or historical investigation, or mineralogical collection 
of St. George’s Museum, or the purchase of manuscripts and objects of 
interest for St. George’s Museum. Afterward the money obligations 
of members of the Guild were reduced to one per cent, of a member’s 
income; and finally Mr. Ruskin in his latest report (1886) is willing 
to accept as members any persons “ who will consent to our laws and 
subscribe five pounds a year and upwards.” It was not expected that 
people who believed even deeply in the soundness of Mr. Ruskin’s 
theories would abandon their offices, their shops, or their factories, to 
grow cabbages upon poor soil by day and discuss Florentine laws and 
Turner’s sketches by night. Mr. Ruskin would have been glad to re- 
ceive such converts, provided they were able to make good to the society’s 
butcher and baker the monthly deficit after the cabbages had been sold ; 
but even before the first canvas for members was over he had aban- 
doned temporarily that feature of the scheme. In lieu of that he pro- 
posed to enroll some poor but worthy people whom the Guild would 
support while they (the beneficiaries) lived the life prescribed by Mr. 
Ruskin for the members : these fortunate persons would till the arid 
earth without strain or envious haste, in the manner prescribed by the 
Master, and would endeavor to live up to the fantastic programme laid 
out for them. Those who could not till the soil would make the best 
use of their time which the superintendent of the Guild’s work could 
devise : they might make baskets, weave cloth, or do other work, — 
always, of course, without the use of other machinery than that used 


MR. RUSKIN^S GUILD OF ST. GEORGE. 


843 


two hundred years ago. Work within the Guild^s domains — whether 
building, draining, weaving, or learning — would be done in the earnest, 
thorough, painstaking way which our ancestors are supposed to have 
followed. It was hopeless to suppose that the money received from 
the sale of the St. George’s cabbages or cloth or baskets would suffice 
for the expenses of the community ; and, besides buying the products of 
St. George’s Guild at a valuation which ignored the quotations of the 
nearest market-town, the outside members, or associates, would make 
good the deficit month by month. Their reward was to be the joy 
of witnessing the transformation of simple John Thomas from a dull 
agricultural laborer into a man of ideas, of appreciation, who would 
find poetry in his cabbages and fill with enthusiasm over the Stones 
of Venice John Thomas’s children, under the influence of the Guild’s 
teaching, would grow up firm believers in the divine right of kings and 
the dignity of manual labor ; they would imbibe a horror of all that 
was inartistic, false, and cheap in the life of modern England. When 
the associates of the Guild saw these wonderful things, would they not 
feel like praising God and John Euskin, and giving up their common- 
place lives to join fortunes in all things with St. George’s Guild ? 

The pictures which Mr. Ruskin drew from time to time in the pages 
of Fors of St. George’s Guild in operation are full of charm to the 
poet whose dream is of Utopia, but the scheme was burdened with so 
many whimsical notions of the famous critic that but thirty-two persons 
were found to subscribe to the following curious creed drawn up by Mr. 
Ruskin, and to agree to devote a tithe of their incomes to the purposes 
of the Guild : 

Tht following Creeds with the promises founded on it, must he written out in his 
or her own hand, and signed, by every person proposing themselves for a member of 
the Guild, and forwarded to the Master. 

I. I trust in the Living God, Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, 
and of all things and creatures visible and invisible. 

I trust in the kindness of His law, and the goodness of His work. 

And I will strive to love Him, and keep His law, and see His work, while 
I live. 

II. I trust in the nobleness of human nature, in the majesty of its faculties, 
the fulness of its mercy, and the joy of its love. 

And I will strive to love my neighbor as myself, and, even if I cannot, will 
act as if I did. 

III. I will labor, with such strength and opportunity as God gives me, for my 

own daily bread ; and all that my hand finds to do, I will do with my 
might. 

IV. I will not deceive, or cause to be deceived, any human being for my gain 

or pleasure ; nor hurt, or cause to be hurt, any human being for my gain 
or pleasure ; nor rob, or cause to be robbed, any human being for my 
gain or pleasure. 

V. I will not kill nor hurt any living creature needlessly, nor destroy any 
beautiful thing, but will strive to save and comfort all gentle life, and 
guard and perfect all natural beauty, upon the earth. 

VI. I will strive to raise my own body and soul daily into higher powers of 
duty and happiness ; not in rivalship or contention wfith others, but for 
the help, delight, and honor of others, and for the joy and peace of my 
own life. 

VII. I will obey all the laws of my own country faithfully ; and the orders of 
its monarch, and of all persons appointed to be in authority under its 


844 


MR. RUSKIN^S GUILD OF ST. GEORGE. 


monarch, so far as such laws or commands are consistent with what I 
suppose to be the law of God ; and when they are not, or seem in any 
wise to need change, I will oppose them loyally and deliberately, not 
with malicious, concealed, or disorderly violence. 

VIII. And with the same faithfulness, and under the limits of the same obedience, 
which I render to the laws of my country, and the commands of its 
rulers, I will obey the laws of the Society called of St. George, into 
which I am this day received ; and the orders of its masters, and of all 
persons appointed to be in authority under its masters, so long as I 
remain a Companion, called of St. George. 

The list of twenty of these thirty-two persons I find appended to 
one of the early reports : it is arranged alphabetically according to the 
Christian name as follows : Ada Hartnell, Annie Somerscales, Blanche 
Atkinson, Dora Lees, Egbert Rydings, Elizabeth Barnard, Fanny 
Falbot, Frances Colenso, George Allen, Henrietta Carey, Henry Lar- 
kin, John Fowler, John Morgan, Julia Firth, Rebecca Roberts, Robert 
Sommerville, Silvanus Wilkins, Susan Beever, William Sharman, and 
William Smithers. 

For some years after the organization of the Guild none of the 
members gave land upon which the agricultural or educational features 
of the scheme could be tried, nor was the income derived from the 
members sufficient to do more than form the nucleus of a museum 
of art and mineralogy intended for the delectation and instruction of 
the St. George’s community when it should be brought together. Many 
members who objected to giving a tithe of their incomes for the forma- 
tion of an art collection according to Mr. Ruskin’s taste withdrew. 
Then some land — twenty acres in extent — in Worcestershire was pre- 
sented to the Guild by one of its members, Mr. George Baker, and, 
later, a small farm of thirteen acres in Derbyshire was bought and 
rechristened St. George’s Farm. No member of the Guild was found 
who would consent to attempt life upon St. George’s Farm for more 
than a few weeks at a time, and that part of the experiment was fraught 
with what Mr. Ruskin admits were ludicrous failures. Farm-laborers 
who could grow good cabbages proved to be deaf to the teachings of 
poetry and art ; poets who saw much in the simple primrose were too 
taken up in its contemplation to find time for the cabbages. Neverthe- 
less Mr. Ruskin has at no time given up this part of the scheme, and 
waits for devotees who believe equally in art and out-door labor. The 
farm is now used for raising vegetables sold in Sheffield, and other bits of 
property, including a moor near Barmouth in Wales, are leased. In 
Mr. Ruskin’s own grounds at Coniston he has for the last few years been 
trying on barren land the experiments which he advises for the St. 
George’s property ; but though he says that he has made valuable land 
out of what was worthless, we are not told at what cost. Gradually 
the main work of the companions of St. George has come to be the 
collection of money and material for the little Walkley Museum at 
Sheffield, which the Guild founded, and the encouragement of such 
enterprises as seem especially deserving of support from such a society. 
Thus, Mr. Ruskin tells us that he found some years ago in the Isle 
of Man a native industry for women in spinning the wool of isle-bred 
sheep, but at so little remuneration that frequently infirm and aged 


MR. RUSKIN'S GUILD OF ST. GEORGE. 


845 


women were obliged to leave their cottages and their spinning-wheels to 
work in the mines, a condition of affairs which Ruskin does not hesitate 
to attribute to steam machinery. This industry has been organized by 
St. George’s Guild, a water-mill built, and the custom of the well-wisher 
is asked for honest thread made into honest cloth, dyed indelibly.” 
In speaking of what he has done for this industry, Mr. Ruskin says, — 

It is to be carefully noted that machinery is only forbidden by the 
Guild where it supersedes healthy bodily exercise or the art and pre- 
cision of manual labor in decorative work, but that the only permitted 
motive power of machinery is by natural force of wind or water (electri- 
city perhaps not in the future refused), but steam absolutely refused, as 
a cruel and furious waste of fuel to do what every stream and breeze 
are ready to do costlessly. The moored river mill alone, invented by 
Belisarius fourteen hundred years ago, would do all the mechanical 
work ever required by a nation which either possessed its senses or 
could use its hands. Gunpowder and steam hammers are the toys of 
the insane and paralytic.” 

At present the members of the Guild do not exceed sixty in number, 
and, notwithstanding the small monetary obligation incurred by new 
members, Mr. Ruskin does not seem to hope for many more. The 
tone of the latest report to the members of the Guild is, as I have 
already said, so despondent as to lead one to believe that its chief 
spirit has no more faith in his own power to carry out the central 
purpose of the reform, — the elevation of manual labor by thought until 
rural occupations become essential to the well-being of intelligent 
persons. The following paragraphs from this report will show how far 
removed is Mr. Rusk in’s tone from the enthusiasm with which he 
discussed the early jdans of the Guild twelve or fifteen years ago : 

I have no progress to give account of last year in any direction of 
our main work ; no new land has been bought or given us ; and the 
funds in hand do not admit of our undertaking more than absolutely 
needful reparations and out-house enlargements of the Walkley Museum. 
. . . There are now in my hands at Brantwood, or lent to various 
schools, upwards of two thousand pounds’ worth of drawings executed 
for the Guild by Mr. Murray, Mr. Alessandri, and Mr. Randall ; and 
at Oxford half as many more — capable now of being arranged in a 
permanently instructive gallery. I have no time, no strengtli of life 
now to lose in attempts at ornamental architecture ; and am going there- 
fore to build a perfectly plain gallery, comfortably and safely warm and 
dry, in the pure air of Bewdley, where these drawings may at once be 
placed and described. We are at present, however, at the end of our 
disposable funds, and I have been obliged, to my great sorrow, to check 
for a time the beautiful work of Mr. Alessandri and Mr. Rooke. So it is 
for the British public to say whether they and I are to be of any further 
use to them or not. ... If I receive no better help than hitherto, I 
shall place the drawings simply at the disposition of the trustees, and 
withdraw myself from further toil or concern in the matter.” 

Philip O. Hubert, Jr. 


VoL. XLI.--54 


846 


OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP. 


OUE MONTHLY GOSSIP 

WITH READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS. 


The opinions of friends and neighbors as to a man^s powers are rarely of 
any value. Sometimes they ridiculously overrate him and push some donkey 
forward into a conspicuous position where the length of his ears as defined 
against the background of the horizon may be accurately and publicly ascertained. 
But more frequently — and especially in the case of a man of real genius — they are 
inclined to undervalue one whom they have come to regard as one of themselves. 
That there should suddenly be a great booming of cannon and fiying of colors 
in honor of Tompkins, for example, is quite in the ordinary course of nature, be- 
cause Tompkins is a part of the great unknown outside world from which heroes 
are constantly emerging. But when your friend Jones, let us say, whom you 
thought you had fully weighed and measured, and whose mental tonnage you 
had placed rather below your own, — when Jones suddenly slips out of the narrow 
and crowded channels of every-day life into the wide, lonely sea of genius, you 
are likely to be surprised, you may even be a little displeased. 

The advent of genius,” says the wise and witty Autocrat of the Breakfast- 
Table, “ is like what florists style the breaking of a seedling tulip into what we 
may call high-caste colors, — ten thousand dingy flowers, then one with the divine 
streak ; or, if you prefer it, like the coming up in old Jacobis garden of that 
most gentlemanly little fruit, the seckel pear, which I have sometimes seen in 
shop- windows. It is a surprise : there is nothing to account for it. All at once 
we find that twice two make five. Nature is fond of what are called ‘gift enter- 
prises.’ This little book of life which she has given into the hands of its joint 
possessors is commonly one of the old story-books bound over again. Once only 
in a great while there is a stately poem in it, or its leaves are illuminated with the 
glories of art, or they enfold a draft for untold values signed by the millionfold 
millionaire old mother herself. But strangers are commonly the first to find the 
gift that came with the little book.” 

Montaigne tells us in his “ Essays” that his attempt to become an author 
was laughed at in his own province, and even after he had won his fame he 
found that “ at home he was obliged to purchase printers, while at a distance 
printers purchased him.” Balzac’s family were sarcastically indignant at his 
presuming to believe that he could write, and visited his first three failures with 
the usual exasperating “ I — told — you — so.” When Swift introduced Parnell to 
Lord Bolingbroke and to the world, he made this entry in his journal : “ It is 
pleasant to see one who hardly passes for anything in Ireland make his way 
here with a little friendly forwarding.” Daniel Webster in the very height of 
his fame, just after his famous Bunker Hill speech, took a run down to his native 
village, which he had not visited in so many years that he found himself quite 
unrecognized by his former cronies. Accosting an old friend of the Websters, he 
gradually, after due discussion of the weather and the crops, turned the conver- 
sation upon his own family. Thereupon his companion burst out into enthusi- 


OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP. 


847 


astic encomiums upon the virtues and abilities of Daniehs elder brother Ebenezer, 
who had died young and whose early death he fittingly deplored. Daniel slipped 
in a modest query as to whether there was not a brother named Dan. He never 
was much account,” said the old gentleman, with a shake of the head. 1 believe 
he went up to Boston and became some kind of a lawyer or ^nother.” 

Andersen has allegorized his own forlorn and unappreciated youth in the 
story of the Ugly Duckling which turned out to be a swan. This story is a 
favorite with Bismarck. I was an ugly duckling myself,” he once told a friend : 
‘‘my poor old mother never would believe that there was any good in me.” 
Isaac Barrow^s parents conceived so mean an opinion of his temper and parts 
when he was a boy at the Charterhouse School, that his father used to say, if it 
pleased God to take from him any of his children, he hoped it might be Isaac, 
the least promising. Adam Clarke’s father was equally uncomplimentary to his 
own flesh and blood when he proclaimed his son to be “a grievous dunce.” 
Sheridan’s mother presented him to a new tutor as “an incorrigible dunce.” 
Poe at West Point was a laughing-stock to his school-mates. Byron at Harrow 
was in no wise distinguished above his fellows. Napoleon and Wellington in 
their school-days were distinguished bnly for dulness. The mother of the latter 
must be added to our list of complimentary parents. Arthur was good for noth- 
ing, she thought, save as food for powder. Robert Clive’s family were thoroughly 
disgusted with him by the time he was eighteen years old, his reputation for 
stupidity being then only equalled by his reputation for general wickedness, and, 
gladly accepting an Indian clerkship for him, they shipped him ofl* to Madras, 
“ to make a fortune or die of a yellow fever.” Goldsmith, up to the time of the 
publication of “ The Traveller,” was looked upon as an idiot by almost all who 
knew him. Afterwards he was dubbed an inspired idiot. Burns was a dull boy, 
good only at athletic exercises. Sir Humphry Davy was by no means esteemed a 
brilliant boy. “ While he was with me,” says his teacher, David Gilbert, “ I could 
not discern the faculties by which he was so much distinguished.” And be sure 
that the good burghers of Stratford-on-Avon saw nothing in Will Shakespeare, 
the butcher’s boy, but a wild harum-scarum scatterbrain whose only chance of 
future elevation lay in the chance open to all rogues on the gallows. Indeed, 

the Reverend Mr. , who was pastor in the poet’s birthplace in 1648, says 

there was another butcher’s boy in the same town who was deemed more than 
an equM of Master Shakespeare in parts. This prodigy won the love of the 
gods, and died young. 

Scott tells us in his “ Diary” that for a time he was underrated by most of 
his companions, though subsequently getting forward and held a bold and clever 
fellow, contrary to the opinion of all who thought him a mere dreamer. “ Dunce 
he is, and dunce he will remain,” was the sentence passed upon him by Professor 
Dalzell at the Edinburgh University. The coldness of his critical friends at the 
outset of life had almost deterred him from poetical composition, as it afterwards 
caused him to throw aside the unfinished manuscript of “ Waverley” to moulder 
away for eight years in his desk. The first sketch of his maiden effort at original 
verse, “ The Lay of the Last Minstrel,” he read over one evening after dinner to 
his friends Erskine and Crouneston. They listened with just as much apparent 
attention as the laws of courtesy absolutely demanded, smoked their cigars, passed 
the claret, hemmed, drew a sigh of relief at the end of the first canto, and re- 
turned without a word of comment to the thread of conversation which Scott 
had broken into with his cold dash of poetry. He interpreted their silence as 


848 


OVR MONTHLY GOSSIP. 


unuttered condemnation, and threw the stanzas aside in disgust ; nor was it until 
long after that they again saw the light. 

James Thomson writing to his friend Mallet concerning a couplet in his 
Summer” which the latter had criticised says, Far from defending these two 
lines, I damn them to the lowest depth of the poetical Tophet prepared of old 
for Mitchell, Morris, Eook, Cook, Beckingham, and a long &c. Wherever I 
have evidence, or think I have evidence, which is the same thing. I’ll be as 
obstinate as all the mules in Persia.” The persons whom he kindly consigns to 
the “poetical Tophet” were his old friends in Scotland who had somewhat 
severely criticised his earlier productions. The first one on the list, Mr. Joseph 
Mitchell, had thus ungraciously acknowledged the receipt of perhaps his noblest 
composition, the “ Winter” of the “ Seasons” : 

Beauties and faults so thick lie scattered here. 

Those I could read if these were not so near. 

Which stung the poet to reply, — 

Why all not faults, injurious Mitchell? Why 
Appears one beauty to thy blasted eye ? 

Damnation worse than thine, if worse can be, 

Is all I ask, and all I want, from thee ! 

As Mitchell literally had “a blasted eye,” the poet, to avoid a personal reflec- 
tion, subsequently altered the epithet to “ blasting.” Elsewhere he calls him 
the “ planet-blasted Mitchell.” Of another of these critic friends Thomson 
talks somewhat more calmly, though still with a sense of having been misappre- 
ciated and misunderstood. “ Aikman’s reflections on my writings are very good, 
but he does not in them regard the turn of my genius enough : should I alter my 
way, I would write poorly. I must choose what appears to me the most signifi- 
cant epithet, or I cannot with any heart proceed.” 

When Heine read his two stanzas “ The Pine and the Palm” to a coterie 
which numbered such men as Fouqu6, Schlegel, Chamisso, etc., they all burst into 
peals of inextinguishable laughter which wellnigh put him out of conceit with a 
poem whose fame is now world-wide. Addison advised Pope not to introduce his 
fairy mythology into “ The Rape of the Lock.” Wordsworth’s friends all besought 
him to leave out of his volume of “ Lyrical Ballads” the poem “We are Seven,” 
assuring him that it would bring down upon him the laughter of all Britain. Pope 
had the pleasure of informing a friend who told him that there was a thing just 
out, called “ An Essay on Man,” which was most abominable stuff, without co- 
herence or connection, that he had seen the “ thing” before it went to press, 
since it was his own writing : upon which the astonished critic seized his hat 
“ blushed, bowed, and took his leave forever.” 

H. S. F. asks for information in regard to the dog of Montargis. 

This is the name under which the memory of a faithful hound has been 
preserved. The hound belonged to Aubrey de Montdidier, who during the reign 
of the French Charles V. was murdered in the forest of Bondy, or Bondi, near 
Paris. This dog attempted to defend him, and was left for dead by the assassin, 
but, recovering, made its way to the house of one of its master’s friends, whom 
it succeeded in leading to the spot where the body was buried. No clue to the 
murderer could be found. But one day, as the friend was passing through the 


OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP. 


849 


Eue aux Ours, the dog, which had become his constant companion, flew at a 
man who proved to be the Chevalier de Macaire. He would have been strangled 
but for the interference of the passers-by. This strange conduct on the part of 
the dog, usually a good-natured animal, was repeated every time it met the cheva- 
lier, until suspicions began to be aroused. Macaire was known to have been an 
enemy of Montdidier, and to have uttered threats against him. The whole story 
came to the ears of Charles V., who ordered chevalier and dog into his presence. 
He decided the matter could be settled only by the ordeal of battle. The cheva- 
lier was to be armed with a club, the dog was to have an empty cask to retreat to. 
The singular combat took place, October 8, 1371, on the spot now known as the 
Island of St. Louis, then an open plain. It lasted so long that the man fainted 
from fatigue, and, on coming to, he confessed his crime. In the ruined castle of 
Montargis there is a representation of the combat sculptured in bas-relief over 
the mantel-piece of the great hall. It is through this bas-relief that the dog has 
received its name ; but the animal had no other connection with the Montargis 
family. 

In the year 1814 a great success was scored at one of the minor theatres in 
Paris by a melodrama called ‘‘ The Forest of Bondi, or the Dog of Montargis^^ 
La For^t de Bondi, ou le Chien de Montargis’’), written by Guilbert de Pixere- 
court. Its incidents bore only a remote resemblance to the original story, and its 
success was partly due to its sensational character, partly to the feats of the trained 
dog who took the leading character. Dog and play enjoyed similar triumphs in 
Germany and in England. In Dublin, after the play had run for several nights, 
it was withdrawn, owing to a strike for higher pay on the part of the dog’s master. 
The audience were so infuriated at the change of programme that they gutted 
the theatre. This tumult is known in historic annals as the Dog-Eow. 

H. S. T. asks, Who was Maid Marian ?” 

Maid Marian was the wife or mistress of Eobin Hood. She d^s not belong, 
however, to the original cycle of Eobin Hood ballads, but was a subsequent in- 
terpolation. Her name is mentioned in the ballad Eobin Hood’s Golden Prize,” 
and some account of her is given in the ballad Maid Marian and Eobin Hood,” 
but these are of comparatively modern date, and there is no allusion to her in any 
of the other poems referring to the outlaw. Maid Marian, however, was one of 
the names given to the Queen or Lady of the May, and, as the May-day festival 
and the Eobin Hood games were gradually merged into each other, it is easy to 
see how Maid Marian came to be looked upon as the consort of Eobin Hood. In 
the ballad of Maid Marian,” already alluded to, she is represented as a simple 
village maiden beloved by Eobin, who, when her lover was outlawed, donned 
male apparel and went to Sherwood Forest in quest of him. They met, and, 
neither recognizing the other, fought for some time before Eobin’s voice betrayed 
him. Then Marian called out to him who she was, and Eobin escorted her to his 
camp amid great rejoicing. But this genealogy was not satisfactory to Arthur 
Munday, the dramatist, who, having in his two plays on the subject of Eobin 
Hood Downfall” and “Death of Eobert, Earl of Huntingdon”) raised his hero 
to the peerage, felt the necessity of providing him with a suitable consort. He 
therefore makes her real name Matilda, gives her Eobert Lord Fitz- Walter for 
her father, and King John himself for one of her lovers, but she repulses the 
king and flies with her other lover, the Earl of Huntingdon, to the greenwood, 
where he assumes the name of Eobin Hood' and she that of Maid Marian. 


850 


OVR MONTHLY GOSSIP, 


Mr. James Hunter, well known as the editor of the Supplement to Worces- 
ter’s Dictionary, writes to the Gossip, — 

I knew the Poet Close, — a mean humbug. Palmerston made himself 
especially ridiculous by likening him to the poet Burns in the debate on his 
pension. 

I don’t believe in the Basque origin of JingOf for philological reasons. If 
it had been imported from these provinces it is much more likely to have been 
brought by the English army that served in the war of the Spanish Succession 
in the early years of the eighteenth century. The main strength of Charles III. 
lay in the Basque provinces, and his Spanish soldiers were mainly Basques. His 
English corps lay for long in the northeast of Spain, and Basques marched with 
them through Spain. But it is unsafe to speculate much about the origin of 
words unless you know something of their history. Halliwell’s suggestion seeihs 
to me much more probable. 

“ I am not sure that your answer to query in regard to Rabagas is exhaustive. 
Ragabash has been a word in use in Scotland for centuries, and equivalent to 
Ragamuffim, It is generally applied to a class or as a noun of multitude.” 

J. S. McG. writes, There was given, at a public reading in this city some 
years ago, a poem, announced as the ^ Soliloquy of a Geologist :’ it was a poem 
of six or eight verses, the last line of each verse, as I remember it, being ‘ When 
this ganoid curled its tail.’ 

‘‘ Can you tell where this poem may be found?” 

W. C. M. asks, Will you kindly tell me in your next ‘ Monthly Gossip’ 
where I can find a poem entitled ^ Fra Giacomo’ ? I do not know who wrote it.” 

The One Hundked Prize Questions. 

With the last two decades of the One Hundred Questions here submitted it 
might be as well to recall the terms of the prize contest which were announced 
in our February number, as follows : 

‘‘In order to add interest to this department of the Magazine, the managers 
have determined to start a series of one hundred questions, and to ofier the fol- 
lowing prizes to all who may wish to compete : 

“ To the person who answers the greatest number of questions most satisfac- 
torily, — i.e., in the fullest, completest, and most intelligent manner . . $100 


To the second best $50 

To the third best $25 

To the fourth best . A copy of Lippiiicott’s Biographical Dictionary. 


“ Twenty questions will be published in this department every month until 
the final tale is reached in our June number. Answers may be sent in any time 
between the present and June 20, when the competition closes. The names of 
the winners will be announced in our August number. Competitors may send 
in answers to the whole hundred in bulk, or may send them in from month to 
month, as they prefer. 

“ In order to avoid any suspicion of or temptation to favoritism, competitors 
will adopt a pseudonyme and send their real name in a sealed envelope marked 


OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP. 851 

on the outside with the pseudonyme. These envelopes will not be opened until 
after the awards have been determined upon/’ 

It would seem hardly necessary to explain that the winner is not required 
to answer all the questions. “ The person who answers the greatest number most 
satisfactorily” will win the capital prize even if the greatest number answered be 
only ten, and so on with the other prizes. Further, the literary excellence of the 
individual answers will count for much in making the final award, so that it does 
not even follow that the person who answers the most questions, unless they are 
also answered most satisfactorily, will win the prize. Slouchy or semi-correct 
answers will be credited, of course, but will receive less marks than good answers. 
And the total number of marks will decide the question of the prize-winners. 

81. Whence the phrase A month’s mind” ? 

82. What is the etymology of Mugwump, and when was the word first used 
in American politics ? 

83. What is the legend of the Palace of Sans Souci, and what amount of 
historic truth does it contain ? 

84. Whence does the court of Exchequer obtain its name ? 

85. Whence did Hawthorne obtain the hint for his story of ^‘Wakefield”? 
and what monkish legend resembles it? 

86. What were the O. P. riots ? 

87. Where are the two islands called respectively Jack-a-Dan and Kick- 
em- Jenny ? 

88. Who was called Poet-laureate of the Bees” ? 

89. Why do brides wear orange-blossoms ? 

90. What is the story of the Kilkenny Cats ? 

91. Whence the expression crocodile tears” ? 

92. What was the old fable of the origin of the barnacle goose ? 

93. Whence the slang word a boom” ? 

94. Who originated the expression ‘‘ the three R’s” ? and did he do it in jest 
or in earnest ? 

95. Which is the longest word in the English language ? 

96. What historical foundation is there for the poem Barbara Frietchie” ? 

97. What is the origin of news” as applied to newspapers ? 

98. Who was the Gabbon Saer ? 

99. When and where did envelopes originate ? 

100. Why are opals considered unlucky ? 

As several complaints have been made that the queries referring to our No- 
Name number are too difficult of solution, the Gossip trusts to simplify matters 
by publishing in alphabetical order the names of the anonymous authors who 
contributed, leaving it to the ingenuity of his correspondents to affix the names 
to the right articles : 

H. H. Boyesen, Helen Gray Cone, Eebecca Harding Davis, Edgar Fawcett, 
Henry Harland (Sidney Luska), Sidney Lanier, Joaquin Miller, Dr. S. Weir 
Mitchell, Mrs. S. M. B. Piatt, Henry D. Thoreau. 

Nevertheless, it has been thought best, in view of many requests, that these 
ten questions be withdrawn entirely from the competition, leaving ninety questions 
instead of one hundred in the list. 


852 


BOOK-TALK. 


BOOK-TALK. 


HAT fools these mortals be T’ says Puck, and, indeed, to a higher order of 



» » beings we can present no very heroic appearance. Dear brother reader, 
even you and I, — you and I who have such excellent reasons for holding our- 
selves better than our fellow-mortals, — even we are fools. The ceaseless gabble 
of our tongues must be amusing enough to angelic ears. We all talk nonsense, 
even when we are proudest of our intellectual powers. Some of us talk nonsense 
that we have heard from others, and then the world calls it common sense ; some 
of us talk nonsense out of our own heads, and then the world is undecided 
whether we are geniuses or dunces, and talks an immense amount of additional 
nonsense before the point is determined. But to genius as to dunce the great 
lesson of life is that he knows nothing, that the only wisdom is a recognition of 
his ignorance. Shakespeare, Goethe, Dante, George Eliot, — these be great names 
to us little men. The greatest is only like St. Augustine, gathering a few shells 
on the sand, while the infinite, mysterious, fathomless ocean stretches unexplored 
and unexplorable before them. We speak reverently of their knowledge of the 
heart, of their insight into character. What does any poet or novelist of them 
all really know of the abysmal depths of personality?- Sometimes when they 
paint a hero we may find, in this or that heroic quality, in this or that amiable 
weakness, a faint reflex of some characteristic we recognize in ourselves, or when 
they paint a scamp we may find a tolerably accurate representation of our neighbor. 
But then we know little about our neighbor, and less about ourselves. 

“What a w’^orld this would be,” says Christopher North, “were all its in- 
habitants to fiddle like Paganini, ride like Ducrow, discourse like Coleridge, and 
do everything else in a style of equal perfection !” Nay, good Christopher, the 
world would remain the same old dull commonplace world. Our standard would 
be raised, that is all. If every one rode like Ducrow, no one would stop a mo- 
ment to look at Ducrow; if every one fiddled like Paganini, Paganini’s fiddle 
would be complained of by the neighbors as a nuisance ; if every one discoursed 
like Coleridge, Coleridge would be voted an intolerable bore. We give our ad- 
miration to intellectual performances that are rare and ditficult. The moment 
the rarity and the difficulty disappear our admiration also disappears, we seek 
fresh idols to worship. If the average physical standard of the race were sud- 
denly to be raised to — say ten feet, the noble Chang, who is now a Colossus, 
would become a dwarf. Political economists tell us that the discovery of a new 
gold-mine would in no wise increase the wealth of the world. If there were two 
dollars in circulation for every one at present, two dollars would buy no more 
than one dollar does now. See the different degrees of admiration accorded to 
men. In every village tavern you find political magnates who between “ chaws” 
and drinks astonish the gaping by-standers with the magnitude of their knowl- 
edge as compared with the size of their heads. Canning used to say that the 
awe and admiration which a sixth-form boy excites from the members of lower 
classes are greater than he could ever again hope to obtain if he rose to be prime 
minister. Country lawyers, country doctors, country parsons, country school- 


BOOK-TALK. 


853 


teachers, who have astonished their neighborhood without perceptibly impressing 
the outside world, settle the affairs of America, the disputes of foreign nations, 
literature, philosophy, and theology, over their own domestic hearth-stones, and 
many a simple mind has no doubt wondered whether Bismarck, Cleveland, 
Gladstone, or the Pope might not gain useful hints by hearkening to Pater- 
familias. Well, the great historian, the great poet, the great statesman, the 
great philosopher, whose names are familiar words in our mouths, are as fallible 
and as foolish as Paterfamilias, as the sixth-form boy, as the village magnate, 
as you and I are. The intellectual feats that they perform only happen to be 
more difficult to the average man, that is all. But all is folly and vanity, — the 
gabble of fools. Yea, my brother. Let us go up on the house-tops with Carlyle 
and shout the great gospel of silence. 

Or, rather, let us take to ourselves the lesson of humility in lieu of preach- 
ing it to others. Let us recognize that though all codes are temporary and may 
be revolutionized to-morrow, yet the higher code of to-day, retrograde even 
though it be in some aspects, faulty and foolish in all aspects as it may appear 
to the wiser generations that shall follow us, is the highest code that the human 
race has so far evolved out of chaos, and let us refrain from returning to chaos 
because of any faults and follies we may discern in it. Let us recognize, also, 
that, though there is no absolute greatness, there is relative greatness, that though 
in the face of the Infinite all men are puny, insignificant, and foolish, yet in a 
world where seven feet makes a giant it behooves us lesser men to look up to 
those who have surpassed the normal standard. Hero-worship is folly, but it is 
the sort of folly that helps us fools in our struggle after wisdom. 

Let our humility extend still further. Let us recognize all workers who are 
above the ordinary grade of intelligence as in the vanguard of humanity, as 
pioneers of the future. It is fashionable to sneer at this or that popular novelist, 
to style him a purveyor of trash. Well, good reader, the popular novelist is a 
more valuable citizen than the man who does nothing, but only sneers. He is 
in some way — mysterious, it may be, to us — helpful to a number of excellent and 
well-meaning human beings. Even the nine days’ wonder does good work within 
the limit of his nine days. Do not let us compare every one by the standard of 
Shakespeare, Dante, or George Eliot. The men of the hour are sufficient for 
the hour. Few, perhaps, of our living writers will survive for the future, but 
that need not deter the children of the present from recognizing their worth. A 
sliding scale is indispensable for correct judgment. »It is significant how we in- 
stinctively adjust this sliding scale to all matters of every-day life. We call 
Jones or Robinson a brilliant conversationalist, when he only offers us a dim 
reflex of the books that, mayhap, we sneer at. We give the ready guerdon of a 
laugh to jests which would look poor enough in type. On the amateur stage we 
applaud performances which w^e would not tolerate before the real foot-lights. 

We may almost discard our sliding scale, however, in the presence of such a 
man as Lowell. We may judge him by the highest human standard and not find 
many greater than he. With the gift of song,” says Lowell himself, ‘‘ Carlyle 
would have been the greatest of epic poets since Homer.” Without the gift of 
humor, paradoxical as this may seem, Lowell would have been the greatest of 
American poets. We distrust the inspiration of the Pythoness if we see a smile 


854 


BOOK-TALK, 


upon her lips. There is something infernal, something Mephistophelian, about 
all humor, and in poetry at least we want Ormuzd divorced from Ahriman. To be 
sure, as it is, Lowell has written the greatest of all American poems, the Har- 
vard Commemoration Ode, but that one poem hardly constitutes him the greatest 
of American poets when the bulk of his work is compared with, for instance, 
Walt Whitman’s or Emerson’s. “ The Cathedral” is an even greater work, and 
would be a greater poem than the Ode,” but for its extreme cleverness, — but for 
the adroit and ingenious fancy wdiich just plays upon the border of wit and 
would raise a smile if the theme were not so noble and so nobly treated. This 
cleverness has grown upon Lowell, somewhat to the detriment of his poetry. 
‘‘Heartsease and Eue” (Houghton, Mifflin & Co.), which is his latest volume, 
contains much that is exquisite and delightful, it contains little great poetry. 
The best portions are not the serious work, not the portions marked “ Friend- 
ship” and “ Sentiment,” not the tribute to Agassiz, nor the rhapsody of “ Endy- 
niion,” fine as these are, but such pieces of gay defiance, of half-hearted zeal, of 
unsated hunger, as “ Credidimus Jovem Regnare,” and “ In the Half-Way House,” 
which are grouped under the general head of “ Humor and Satire ;” and the lines 
which linger in the memory are such delicious mots as 


or 


Give the right man a solar myth, 

And he’ll confute the sun therewith, 

For the goose of To-day still is Memory’s swan. 


The most characteristic poem in the volume — characteristic, that is, of Mr. 
Lowell’s present mental attitude — is “ The Optimist,” in which he pictures the 
child of light halting from his hopes of the promised land and finding mo- 
mentary comfort in the fiesh-pots of Egypt. 


Here, too, is Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes with a new volume of poems, en- 
titled “ Before the Curfew.” May it be many years before that curfew tolls ! 
How shall we judge him? — by the little test of to-day, or by the larger test of 
eternity? He would bear no comparison, of course, with the great poets, but in 
the company of the great jesters in verse, with Horace, Beranger, Hood, Thack- 
eray, Praed, he could certainly move as an equal. His laugh is the purest, 
brightest, heartiest, and most genial that is heard to-day in America, — the laugh 
of a scholar, a gentleman, and a poet in a land where the professional humorist 
is a little too apt to become a mountebank. 


And what shall we say of Amfflie Rives, the young woman who has just 
been sent us from the South ? Here are three of her short stories, “ A Brother 
to Dragons,” “The Farrier Lass o’ Piping Pebworth,” and “ Nurse Crumpet tells 
the Story,” bound together in a volume (Harper & Bros.). That she has passion, 
imagination, and poetical feeling, that she has a command of language which is 
occasionally exuberant, that she has the large frank utterance 

(In her white Ideal 
All statue-blind) 


which is ofttimes unintelligible to the honest, well-meaning Philistine, and mis- 
interpreted by the clever man of the world, — all these facts are patent enough to 
the reader. Is she to be a nine days’ wonder, or will she take her place among 


BOOK-TALK. 


855 


the masters ? It is too early yet to say : her performance may fall below her 
promise. But, taking her performance at its present worth, we can recognize 
great qualities in it and some faults. The three stories collected in this volume 
are altogether the finest short stories that have appeared in American literature 
for years. 

G. P. Putnam’s Sons send two more volumes of their ‘^Knickerbocker 
Nuggets” and two more of their “Story of the Nations” series. Mention has 
already been made in these columns of the beauty of the Nuggets in external 
appearance. Paper, press-work, and binding unite to make them a joy to the 
eye. The two volumes recently received are “The Vicar of Wakefield” by 
Oliver Goldsmith, and “ Letters, Sentences, and Maxims” by Lord Chesterfield. 
The latter gives you in small compass a well-chosen selection from an author 
whose letters are pleasanter to dip into than to read through. The two recent 
additions to the “ Story of the Nations” are “ Ireland” by the Hon. Emily Law- 
less and “ The Goths” by Henry Bradley. Mrs. Lawless writes her story suc- 
cinctly and agreeably, with an evident eflbrt to be fair and dispassionate, an 
effort so far successful that although you feel she is on her guard, it is some time 
before you realize that what she is guarding against is a natural predilection for 
the Anglo-Saxon. The engravings add much more to the interest than to the 
beauty of the book. Mr. Bradley’s “ Goths” is an excellent summary of one of 
the most extraordinary episodes in all history, the invasion of Southern Europe 
by a tribe of Norse barbarians from the shores of the Baltic, their early reverses 
and eventual success, their conquest of the great Eoman Empire which had once 
been the terror of the world, the culminating period of their glory when one of 
their kings sat on the throne of the Caesars and another ruled over Spain and 
Gaul, and the sudden and tragic collapse of the entire Gothic nation, leaving 
scarcely a wrack behind. As the first English work expressly treating of the 
history of the Goths, the book is doubly welcome. 

Two excellent biographies (and, after you have lost your first youthful delight 
in fiction, there is no reading so charming as biography, — unless it be autobiog- 
raphy) are Prof. McMaster’s “ Benjamin Franklin” in Houghton, Mifflin & Co.’s 
series “ American Men of Letters,” and R. L. Stevenson’s “ Fleeming Jenkin.” 
We all know the hero of the former book ; the hero of the latter was probably 
unknown to most of us until Mr. Stevenson introduced him. But to all lovers 
of good literature he must henceforth remain a charmed figure. Jenkin filled 
the Chair of Engineering in the University of Edinburgh, and was a recognized 
authority on Magnetism and Electricity, especially as applied to submarine teleg- 
raphy. In his lifetime he was known merely to specialists, though his fame 
among them was European. “ But Jenkin,” says Mr. Stevenson, “ was a man 
much more remarkable than the mere bulk or merit of his work approves him. 
It was in the world, in the commerce of friendship, by his brave attitude towards 
life, by his high moral value and unwearied intellectual effort, that he struck the 
minds of his contemporaries.” Mr. Stevenson has succeeded in reproducing this 
personal charm on paper. Prof. McMaster’s was in some ways an easier task than 
Mr. Stevenson’s, yet it had its counterbalancing difflculty. He takes no unfamiliar 
figure ; we all have a distinct picture of the hearty, honest, cynical philosopher, 
with his almost savage sincerity, his homely wit and wisdom, his worldliness, his 
lack of what are known as high ideals, and yet his strenuousness in squaring his 
life to such ideals as he had which might be commended to the imitation of many 


856 


BOOK-TALK. 


a preacher of loftier doctrines. McMaster has not had an opportunity to create 
the part/^ as actors say, but he puts life and vigor of his own into a familiar r61e. 
He is always picturesque, always entertaining, always vivid ; his style, with its by 
no means disagreeable reminiscence of Macaulay, carries the reader along with 
it and makes him reach the end with regret. 

The Ee viewer has a number of new books upon his table about which he 
would gladly have said a few words. But space is limited and time presses ; the 
Eeviewer is mortal and subject to the limitations of time and space. He can 
therefore only make a general clearance of his table by acknowledging receipt 
of the following books : From Charles Scribner’s Sons, Society in Eome under 
the Caesars/’ by William Ealph Inge, M. A., a book which obtained, and deserved, 
the Hare Prize” at Cambridge in 1886, a really excellent survey of social life 
in one of the most interesting periods of all history. From Henry Holt & Co., 
Uncle Sam at Home,” by Harold Brydges, a frank and gossipy sketch of Amer- 
icans and Americanisms by an Englishman who has resided here long enough to 
have opinions, and who knows how to express them entertainingly ; Life of 
Thomas Hopkins Gallaudet,” the founder of Deaf-Mute Instruction in America, 
by his son, Edward Miner Gallaudet; ‘‘The Causes of the French Eevolution,” 
by Eichard Heath Dabney, a thoughtful and well-written historical study ; “Pine 
and Palm,” notable as the first novel by Moncure D. Conway, but not specially 
notable as a novel. From the author, “The Fire of God’s Anger,” by Eev. L. C. 
Baker, in which the reverend author continues those studies in eschatology which 
have raised the ire of his former fellow-members of the Presbyterian Church (but 
the Eeviewer, unfortunately, is no theologian). Also from the author, “ Girard’s 
Will and Girard College Theology,” by Eichard B. Westbrook, D.D., who points 
out with evident frankness and sincerity the violation of the conditions of Girard’s 
will which are permitted at Girard College (but the Eeviewer can only repeat his 
former disclaimer). From Eufus C. Hartranft, “Some Dainty Poems,” by Eev. 
Waldo Messaros, which, the Eeviewer has been surprised to find, frequently justi- 
fies the apparent braggadocio of the title. From Eand, McNally & Co., two new 
volumes of their Globe Library of American Novels, “ Calamity Eow,” by John 
E. Musick, and “ A Puritan Lover,” by Laura C. S. Fessenden. From Eobert 
Clarke & Co., “ Painting in Oil,” a clever little manual for the use of students, 
by M. Louise McLaughlin. From G. P. Putnam’s Sons, “ The Life of George 
Washington Studied Anew,” by Edward Everett Hale, an excellent biography 
for young people ; “ The Holy Child, or the Flight into Egypt,” by Thomas E. 
Van Bibber, a poem that is rendered more or less valuable by half a dozen pro- 
cess reproductions of famous paintings ; three new volumes of the “ Questions 
of the Day” Series, — No. XLIII., “Slav or Saxon,” a study of the growth and 
tendencies of Eussian civilization, by Wm. D. Foulke, No. XLIV., “Literary 
Property and International Copyright,” by George Haven Putnam, No. XLV., 
“The Old South and the New,” by Wm. D. Kelley. From Lee & Shepard, 
“ The Fortunes of the Faradays,” another of Amanda M. Douglas’s kindly but 
commonplace novels; “Vocal and Action Language Culture and Expression,” 
by E. N. Kirby; “ The Art of Projecting,” an illustrated manual of experimen- 
tation in Physics, Chemistry, and Natural History with the Porte-Lumiere and 
Magic Lantern, by Prof. A. E, Dolbear; Poems by David A. Wasson, a fine 
thinker, a true poet, who has not had justice done him in the latter capacity ; 
“Natural Law in the Business World,” by Henry Wood, full of common sense. 


OUEEEOT l^OTES. 

A LETTER FROM MARION HARLAND. 

[FAC SIMILE.] 


, ^ .y 

C>t.p.,^ 



^'‘^-■£4^ , y'^Z.di^ 

'UyLz^ ^si^ 


857 


858 


CURRENT NOTES. 


“ The cat loves fish, but she is loath to wet her feet.” This is the proverb 
that Lady Macbeth alludes to when she upbraids her husband for irresolution ; 
Letting I dare not^* wait upon I would,” 

Like the poor cat in the adage. 

Another old English proverb reminds you that If you would have the hen’s 
egg you must bear with her cackling,” while the Portuguese say, “ There’s no 
catching trout with dry breeches.” Of the same kind was the good woman’s 
answer to her husband when he complained of the exciseman’s gallantry : Such 
things must be if we sell ale.” 

The new edition of Chambers’s ‘‘ Encyclopaedia,” published by J. B. Lip- 
pincott Co., is winning golden opinions from the critics. It covers more ground 
than any other standard Encyclopaedia, contains a greater number of articles on 
useful subjects, is succinct but always adequate, and for all practical purposes is 
the best Encyclopaedia published. The articles are written at first hand by 
specialists, and are not compiled from other Encyclopaedias by hack-writers. 
The American articles, of which there are a large number, were written in 
America, and a great part of the editorial work was performed in this country. 

‘‘ The darkest hour is just before dawn,” is an old English proverb which ex- 
presses more poetically the homelier adage, When things are at the worst they 
soonest mend,” or When bale is highest, boot is nighest,” and finds an equiva- 
lent in other languages, as in French “ By dint of going wrong all will come 
right,” in Italian 111 is the eve of well,” in Persian “ It is at the narrowest part 
of the defile that the valley begins to open,” and in Hebrew “ When the tale of 
bricks is doubled, Moses comes.” That the nights, as a rule, are darkest just be- 
fore dawn is doubtless true, for the moon has then reached far on to the western 
horizon, while the sun is still far below the eastern horizon. 

“ Dead as Chelsea” signifies only dead so far as action and usefulness are con- 
cerned. Chelsea is the seat of the famous hospital for superannuated soldiers 
built by Sir Christopher Wren in the reign of Charles II, A person who “gets 
Chelsea” — in other words, obtains the benefit of the institution — is virtually dead 
to the service and to the world at large. The expression “ Dead as Chelsea” is 
said to have been first made use of by a grenadier at Fontenoy on having his leg 
carried away by a cannon-ball. 

A NUMBER of guesses have been sent in as to the authorship of the “ No- 
Name” essays, poems, and stories in our May number. Henry James, Edgar 
Fawcett, Miss Fanny Courtenay Baylor, Amelie Eives, M. G. McClelland, F. 
Marion Crawford, and Captain Charles King have been suggested as the author 
of “ The Old Adam,” the preponderance of votes being in favor of Am41ie Eives ; 
“ From Bacon to Beethoven” has been attributed to Mrs. Lucy C. Lillie, Sidney 
Lanier, and Henry D. Thoreau ; “ Ding-Dong” to Sidney Lanier and Helen Gray 
Cone ; “ Mr. Sonnenschein’s Inheritance” to Henry Harland and H. H. Boyesen, 
Harland being the favorite ; “ The House of Hate” to Edgar Fawcett, though 
others, without committing themselves, have decided that it was written by a 
woman ; “ Among my Weeds” to Joaquin Miller and John Burroughs ; “ A Little 
Boy’s Talk” to Dr. S. Weir Mitchell and Mrs. S. M. B. Piatt, the latter having a 
large majority of votes ; “ The Portrait and the Ghost” to Henry Harland ; “ Neb- 
uchadnezzar’s Wife” to Helen Gray Cone and E. H. Stoddard ; “ Old Delaware” 
(one guess only) to Eebecca Harding Davis. 


LIPPINCOTT’S 


|l^ONTHLY ]y[AGAZINE. 


POPULAR JOURNAL 


GENERAL LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND POLITICS. 


VOL. XII.-JANUAET TO JONK, 1888. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 
1888 , 


Copyright, 1888, by J. B. Lippincott Company. 



00 INTENTS, 


PAQB 


Bacon to Beethoven, From * 643 

A Novel . . . 


Beautiful Mrs. Thorndyke. 

Browning Craze, The 

Check and Counter-Check. A Novel 
Genius, The Endowment of ... . 

Grand Duke’s Rubies, The 

Honored in the Breach. A Novel . 


, . Mrt, PouUney Bigelow 717-785 

. . Edgar Fawcett 81 

. . ‘Brander Matthews and George H, Jesaop ‘ 1-80 

. . Joel Benton 559 

. . Edgar Saltus 123 

. . Julia Magruder 287-389 

Lawyer, My Efforts to become a Belva A, Lockwood 215 

Letter-Box, From My Max 0*Rell 391 

Libby to Freedom, From J, M, Oakley 812 

Man of the Golden Fillet, The Amilie Bivea 242 

Modern Word- Parsimony Agnea Repplier 272 

Mr. Sonnenschein’s Inheritance 656 

Old Adam, The. A Novel 573-642 

Old Delaware 698 

Old Maids, Our 230 

Opera-Singers, The Preferences of our . . . Charles E, L, Wingate 97 

Plagiarisms, A Little Treatise on Louise Imogen Guiney 786 

Portrait and the Ghost, The 677 

President’s Son, A Talk with a Frank G. Carpenter 416 

Quick or the Dead, The ? A Novel AmUie Rivea 431-522 

Reminiscences W, H. Furness 119 

Rives, Some Days with Am61ie J, I). Hurrell ^ 531 

Ruskin’s Guild of St. George Philip G, Hubert, Jr 839 

Spell of Home, The. A Novel Mrs. A. L, Wister 143-214 

Weeds, Among My 671 

Western Investments for Eastern Capital . . Thomas Learning 523 

With Gauge & Swallow: Albion W, Tourgee .... 103, 400, 537, 826 

II. An Unlawful Honor. 

III. A Retainer in Cupid’s Court. 

IV. The Letter and the Spirit. 

V. A Shattered Idol, 

Working-Woman’s Home, Life at a . . . . Charlotte Adams 235 

Yellow Shadow, The * Henry Boone 793 


Our Monthly Gossip 132, 276, 422, 563, 70S, 846 


Poetry : 

Ballade of the Arcadian in Business . . . . 

Bird-Language 

Difference, The 

Ding Dong 

Fancy in the Mist 

Father’s Child 

Fear 

Hoiyrood .... 


Harrison S. Morrison 421 

Edgar Fawcett 825 

William H, Hague 415 

655 

Edith il/. Thomas 272 

R. T, W, Duke, Jr 553 

Charlotte Fiake Batts 399 

Clinton Scollard 96 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


Mary Ainge De Vere 
John James Piatt 
Florence Earle Coates 


Nora Perry 

Charles Henry Phelps . 


Poetry — Continued : 

House of Hate, The . . . 
Incredulity 
Irish Ivy 
Limitation 
Little Boy’s Talk, A 
Lucifer 

Metempsychosis 
Nebuchadnezzar’s Wife 
Night Cometh, The . . 

Price, The 

Princess Badoura . . . 

Sere Wisdom 

To My Face in the Glass 

Unrest 

Verzenay 


Sarah M, B. Piatt . 
Carlotta Perry . . . 
Clinton Scollard . . 
Helen Cray Cone . . 
Amilie Rives . . . 
Ella Wheeler Wilcox 
Daniel L, Dawson , 


670 

838 

102 

792 

676 

122 

390 

693 

241 

118 

810 

229 

131 

275 

529 


Book-Talk 


W. S. Walsh . . . 138 , 282 , 427 , 565 , 714 , 852 


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chance was it that he escaped the poverty of old age, — the pinch and pressure 
of want which come to ninety-seven out of a hundred ? Was it by being one 
of the three who escape the law ? Or did he fortunately die young. 

No ; by combining with his care for others a little thought for himself. By 
so ordering his insurance that, while prj)tection for the family is continuous, he 
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The end is laudable ; the means are at your hand. Why not reach out and 
obtain an ENDOWMENT ANNUITY BOND of the Penn Mutual 
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LIFE, By Count L. N. Tolstoi. Trans- 
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That Worcester is preferred among scholars is evident 
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From President €lia$. "W. Plliott, of Harvard 
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“ I have always referred to this work as the standard.” 

From President McCosli, of Princeton College, 
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“I am amazed at the amount of knowledge in this 
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From President Faircliild^ of Oberlin College, 
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“ I have never felt sure that I had the best light on any 
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Completion of a great literary achievement. A noble monument to American 
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History of tbe Inquisition of the Middie Ages. 

By HENRY CHARLES LEA. 

COMPLETE IN THREE VOLUMES. 

8vo, Cloth, Uncut Edges and Gilt Top, $3.00 per volume. 


SOME PRESS NOTICES : 

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study has never before found a proper and adequate historian, .,, It is the spirit of 
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historia7t*s office. The scholarship with which he has advanced this spirit and embod- 
ied this conception, the extraordinary candor with which he has studied the evidence, 
the elevated and sustained clearness with which he has carried forward his narrative, 
and the floods of clear light which he has thrown ufon a subject than which none has 
been more thoroughly beset with writers violently prejudiced and grossly ignorant, en- 
title his work to a place among the best achieve^nents of scholarship in America, of 
which it must long remain as a choice and conspicuous ornament, — N. Y. Times. 

Characterized by the same astounding reach of historical scholarship as made Mr. 
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them in judicial repose and in the mastery of materials. ... Of Mr. Lea’s prede- 
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Mr. Lea’s history may be said not only to have superseded all existing works treat- 
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the facts, religious, political, and social, which together constitute the history of the 
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known. — Critic, N. Y. 

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It must take permanent rank among those thoughtful works on great themes that 
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them. It is a production of which all Americans may well feel justly proud. ... A 
lurking vein of humor crops out occasionally (from an obviously large reserve fund). 
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THE RAILWAY ARTICLES 

BEGIN IN THE JUNE NUMBER OF 

SCRIBNER’S MAGAZINE, 

This series of illustrated papers, written by 
eminent authorities in a popular and untechni- 
cal way, will be found of the greatest import- 
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draw their support from this source. 

The railways of the United States possess 
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But not only in material importance does their 
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undertakings, the wonderful feats accomplished 
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working, give to everything connected with them a special attraction for all 
Americans. There will be above 250 fine illustrations in the series, the earlier 
papers of which will be as follows : — 

I. THE BUILDING OF A RAILWAY. By Thomas Curtis 

Clarke, Engineer of the Poughkeepsie Bridge, of parts of the New York Elevated 
Road, etc. ; appears in the June issue, with 40 illustrations by A. B. Frost and others. 

II. FEATS OF RAILWAY ENGINEERING. Great Tunnels, 

Bridges, Curves, Trestles, etc. By John Bogart, State Engineer of New York, etc. 
Many beautiful illustrations. 

III. LOCOMOTIVES AND CARS. Describing the wonderful devel- 

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and luxuries of modern travel. Illustrated. 

V. THE RAILROAD MAN’S LIFE. By B. B. Adams, Jr. Mr. 

Adams will tell, in a stirring and popular fashion, of the duties, dangers, and pleasures 
of the employee’s life. Illustrated by many engravings. 

Other contributions to the June number by 

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON, THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH, 
HENRY JAMES, AUGUSTINE BIRRELL, 

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PHll^AOKl^PHIA, JUPiK, 1888. 



T his bulletin contains A LIST of our NEW PUBLICATIONS, with brief 
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Our Publications are for Sale by Booksellers generally, or if not obtainable of 
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JUST ISSUED. 

The Merchant of Venice. 

Being Volume VII. of the Variorum Edition of Shakespeare. Edited 
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$4.00. 

Furness’s Variorum Edition of Shakespeare has long been recognized by scholars as 
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and will contain the best criticisms that have ever been written. The volumes previously 
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“ Othello.” 

Too Curious. 

By Edward J. Goodman. 16mo. Half cloth. 50 cents. Paper. 25 cents. 

This volume is the eighty-fifth number of Lippincotfs Series of Select Novels, and is 
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He has shown that he can construct a fresh and interesting novel from the people and the 
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as old and as universal as the race, — the desire, that is, to peer into the future. 

The Deserter and From the Ranks. 

Two Novels Under One Coyer. By Capt. Charles King, author of “ The 
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Paper. 50 cents. 

Captain King is never dull. He gives individuality to his characters and paints his 
heroes and heroines as manly and womanly. He gives all there is to be found in soldier- 
life, and out of the material he has chosen, through his talent for writing true to life, he 
weaves a tale that works the reader up to a pitch of interest that does not relax until the 
end. “The Deserter” tells the story of a young oflicer resting under the shadow of a 
crime of which he is innocent, and of how he was helped by a young woman with a loving 
heart. It is a story which is pure in sentiment, picturesque in treatment, and with such 
a delightful blending of light and shade that the interest never flags. “ From the Ranks” 
is a story more romantic than we are apt to find in these days. It contains natural and 
heroic characters, which mingle among the charming and honor-loving society of the fort 
with ease and attractiveness. The plot is ingeniously constructed and the denouement 
impossible to foresee. 


9 


NEW PUBLICATIONS OF J. B. LIPPINCOU COMPANY. 


Stanley to the Rescue. The Relief of Emin 

Pasha. By A. Wauters, President of the Boyal Geographical Society of 

Belgium. Translated by Ellen E. Frewer. With Map and thirty-four Illus- 
trations. 12mo. Cloth extra. $1.50. 

Over the Divide, and Other Verses. 

By Marion Manville. With a Portrait of the Author. 12mo. Extra cloth. 

$1.50. 

This attractive work contains a large number of poems, embracing subjects sufficiently 
varied in character to suit all tastes. “ Over the Divide,” from which the book takes its 
name, is a strongly-told story in the dialect of the mining-camp. All the poems exhibit 
bright flashes of deep thought. The style is elevated and pure, and the genius of the au- 
thor is manifest in the strength and genuine poetic beauty which characterize the volume. 

Picked Up in the Streets. 

A Bomance from the German of H. Schobert. By Mrs. A. L. Wister. 12mo. 

Extra cloth. $1.25. 

“ It is an entertaining, romantic story, with a healthy moral. The pathos is genuine, 
and those who figure in it are unexaggerated types of human nature. It may be read 
with profit and pleasure by old and young.” — Boston Gazette. 

“ Most excellent and interesting, as Mrs. Wister has a way of putting life into any- 
thing which she changes into English.” — Toledo Blade. 

“ Will take its place among the best of the stories in Mrs. Wister ’s lengthy list.” — 
Philadelphia Evening Telegraph. 

“One of the best novels given us from the German for some time.” — Boston Home 
Journal. 

A Lifds Mistake. 

By Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron, author of In a Grass Country,” “ Pure Gold,” 

“Vera Nevill,” “ Worth Winning,” etc. Half cloth. 50 cents. Paper cover. 

25 cents. No. 84 of Lippincottis Series of Select Novels. 

“ It will be a mistake of your life if you don’t read it.” — Texas Siftings. 

“ Mrs. Cameron has a wide circle of admirers by whom her works are always welcomed. 
In this work she appears at her best.” — Baltimore News. 

“‘A Life’s Mistake’ is like an April day, full of sunshine and tears, that end in a 
glorious sunset.”^ — N. O. Picayune. 

“ It is short, bright, and wholesome, and the heroine who tells her own story does it 
in easy, graceful language.” — Philadelphia Bulletin. 

A Blind Lead. 

The Story of a Mine. By Josephine W. Bates. 12mo. Cloth extra. $1.25. 

“ It is certainly a powerful book. We took it up indifferently enough, but we had 
read a few pages only before we found it was no ordinary work by no ordinary writer. A 
good deal of skill is shown in the drawing of character. There are no dull pages, and the 
interest is continuous from the first chapter to the last. We do not envy the state of any 
one who can read this book, alive with noble feeling as it is, and then toss it lightly aside 
without having been moved by it in the least. We know nothing of the author beyond 
what the book may indirectly reveal, but, as we before stated, she is no ordinary writer, 
and if anything we have here said shall induce any of our readers to examine the book 
for themselves, we are reasonably sure that they will agree with us.” — Boston Advertiser. 

“ There is much of the pathetic in the little story, and one’s heart will ache more than 
once before the book is finished.” — Kansas City Times. 

Spinoza. 

The twelfth volume of Philosophical Classics for English Readers. By John 

Cairo, Principal of Glasgow University. With Portrait. 16mo. Cloth. $1.25. 

“ Dr. Caird’s ‘ Spinoza’ is as fine a piece of analysis and criticism as a devoted Hegelian 
could give us. He does justice to all the nobleness of the man and the thinker. He sees 
an ethical purpose permeating the whole structure of a system which begins by eliminating 
human freedom and responsibility and yet ends with the love of God so unselfish as to 
demand no love from God in return. He sees in his teaching the suggestion and prophecy 
of what modern philosophy has been able to achieve in realizing the same idea as Spinoza 
had, but in a better way. We know of no better or more readable book on the subject 
than WAs.^^— Philadelphia American. 


10 


NEW PUBLICATIONS OF J. B. LIPPI NGOTT COMPANY. 


Diseases of the Skin. 

A Manual for Practitioners and Students. By W. Allan Jamieson, M.D., F.P.C., 
P.E., Physician for Diseases of the Skin, Edinburgh Royal Infirmary, etc. Illus- 
trated with Wood'Cuts and Colored Plates. 8vo. Extra cloth. $6.50. 

For the last ten years the progress of dermatology has been rapid ; fresh discoveries 
as to the essence of cutaneous diseases and the improved modes of treating them have 
followed closely on each other. This elegant volume is intended to reflect the teaching of 
the present day on the various subjects, and presents data and conclusions drawn from 
individual experience. 

“It covers the whole field of skin diseases. Facts are stated positively, and opinions 
are well guarded by the personal experiences of eminent clinicians. It is a systematic 
work well adapted to the wants of the student as well as the practitioner.’’ — Richmond 
[ Va.) Medical Monthly. 

A Treatise on Mine- Surveying. 

For the Use of Managers of Mines and Collieries. By Bennett II. Brough, Asso- 
ciate and Demonstrator of Mine-Surveying at the Royal School of Mines, London, 
England. With Numerous Illustrations. 300 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. $2.50. 
A most important and accurate work on a subject which has been but imperfectly 
treated heretofore. It describes the most approved forms of American instruments and 
the methods used in the unusually accurate surveys made in the Pennsylvania Anthracite 
mines, as well as those adopted in the survey of metalliferous mine-claims in the Western 
United States. The usual British mine-surveying practice is also duly discussed, and the 
elaborate methods in use on the continent of Europe are described, it is believed for the 
first time, in the English language. Proper attention is given to the recent developments 
of stadia-surveying in connection with mining operations, and a chapter is devoted to the 
use of the magnetic needle in prospecting for iron ore. 

Large Fortunes ; or., Christianity and the Labor 

Problem. By Charles Richardson. 12mo. Extra cloth. 75 cents. 

“ Mr. Eichardson has got hold of a mighty puzzle and has written thoughtfully about 
it. He wrestles manfully with the matter and contributes to its literature a good many 
bright and fresh ideas. We have read *h is little volume with pleasure, and feel no hesita- 
tion in commending it fully and without reserve.” — New York Herald. 

“As fair and temperate a discussion of the labor problem as has been lately produced 
on that vexed subject. The style and temper of the book is admirable and kindly, and 
will be thoughtfully perused by all earnest readers.” — Chicago Evening Journal. 

“ Mr. Charles Eichardson discusses in a simple and attractive style the origin and 
effects of large fortunes and the cure for the evils which he believes to attend their exist- 
ence. The book contains just views upon many points. The style is lucid, the spirit fair, 
and the purpose benevolent, while there is throughout an appearance of sincere conviction 
that wins the respect and sympathy of the reader.” — Washington Public Opinion. 

Pleasant Waters: A Story of Southern Life 

AND Character. By Graham Claytor. 12mo. Extra cloth. $1.00. 

“ Very readable indeed. We laid the book down with the feeling that the author had 
done his work well. We haven’t books enough on the Southern people. The vein has 
been worked, but the mine has not been thoroughly developed. The Southern people and 
their struggles during and since the war are an extremely interesting theme for the novelist 
to handle. There are the old-fashioned planters, who never were and never can enter into 
the spirit of the new regime; the young men of the New South, who have rolled up their 
sleeves and are making themselves a force in the Eepublic, and the darkey, the everlasting 
darkey, with his fun, his ignorance, his tragedies, his comedies of errors, and his determi- 
nation to get hold of the right end of things some time and to make a man of himself. 
The author has ploughed in this field and turned up some good furrows.” — New York 
Herald. 

“The story is a quiet one, well told, and interesting.” — New York Times. 

Hand-Book of Games. 

Comprising Whist, Draughts, Billiards, etc. Edited by Henry G. Bohn. 
12mo. Extra cloth. $1.00. 

Containing the most complete directions for playing games of skill and science, and 
arranged in a manner so easily understood that a person who never before played a game 
may acquire sufilcient knowledge from the pages to teach himself. 

II 


NEW PUBLICATIONS OF J. B. LIPPINCOU COMPANY. 


Practical Lessons in Nursing. 

I. MILLS.— Nervous and Insane. 

II. KEATING.— Maternity ; Infancy; Childhood. 

III. BRUEN.— Management of Diet. 

IV. WILSON.— Practical Lessons in Nursing. 

12mo. Extra cloth. Price, each, $1,00. 

“ The principles involved and tender care of the sick necessitated caution to cultured 
aid and learned requirements. There is a growing demand for skilled nursing, and these 
works are calculated as a text for learners, while they lead the practitioner to better results, 
i^eglect of earnest requirement alone can militate against the merits of these hooks.’’ — St. 
Louis Med. Journal. 

“ Valuable books that should find entrance into every home .” — Philadelphia Press. 

“ It would be well if they could be generally read, for nurses for the sick cannot 
possess too much knowledge.” — Texas Record of Medicine. 

“ Books that will be found useful for those who are in training to become nurses, but 
may be read advantageously by those not professionally inclined.” — N. Y. Times. 

Doctor and Patient. 

By S. Weir Mitchell, M.D., LL.D., Harv., author of “Fat and Blood, and 
How to Make Them,’^ “Wear and Tear; or, Hints for the Overworked,” etc. 
12mo. Extra cloth. $1.50. 

“ There are few in the medical profession who have the gift of writing in as charming 
a way as Dr. Mitchell, and in this little book the author appears at his best. There is such 
a medley of humor, pathos, seriousness, and good sense that the reader is fascinated from 
the beginning, and is loath to lay it down till finished.” — Ind. Med. Journal. 

“For all women who desire to have strong nerves, the kind, appreciative, wise, and 
firm words of Dr. Mitchell are a godsend and a guide.” — Boston Post. 

“Such excellent sense as is heralded in Dr. Mitchell’s book would benefit the world 
beyond compute if the world would but look up long enough from its tasks and its slumber 
to profit by it. We should have a new race of mothers and children, fathers and grand- 
fathers, if this capital book of suggestions and advice were heeded to the letter.” — Chicago 
Journal. 

The Old Adam. 

A Novel. By ? Complete in the “ No Name Number” of Lippincott^s Maga- 
zine for May, 1888. 25 cents. Half cloth. 50 cents. 

“The strength and interest of the novel shows that the unknown author is certainly 
a writer of experience. It is a story of social life in Rome in which love and religion are 
mingled with much skill.” — Boston Journal. 

The Quick or the Deadf 

Amalie Hives’s First Novel. With a Portrait of the Author. Published com- 
plete in Idppincott's Magazine for April, 1888. 25 cents. Half cloth. 50 

cents. 

“The novel is exceedingly striking, full of color-language, like a brilliant painting, 
and strong in its drawing, like a magnificent etching.” — Pennsylvanian. 

“ It has splendor of imagination and exquisite description ; perfect figures, with all 
the hurried, quick movement of its dramatic incidents ; is almost perfect in execution.” — 
Lafayette Sunday Leader. 

Only the Governess. 

By Bosa Nouchette Carey, author of “ Esther,” “ Uncle Max,” “ Not Like 
Other Girls,” etc. 16mo. Half cloth. 50 cents. Paper cover. 25 cents. No. 
83 of Lippincott's Series of Select Novels. 

“ Miss Carey’s novels may be compared to a tranquil back-water out of the main cur- 
rent of the turbid stream of modern fiction. The graces and charities of domestic life are 
treated by her with never-failing sympathy and refinement.” — London Athenseum. 

12 


NEW PUBLICATIONS OF J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 


The Sportsman’s Paradise; 

Or, The Lake Lands of Canada. By B. A. Watson, A.M,, M.D. Second 
Edition, Profusely Illustrated by Daniel C. and Harry Beard. Elegantly 
bound in extra cloth. 8vo. $3.50. 

“It merits a place in the library of every American sportsman.’’ — Philadelphia 
American. 

“ An entertaining account of a hunting and fishing expedition through the lake lands 
of Canada ; anecdotes of sport, experiences, and descriptions make the book a most delight- 
ful one to lovers of this kind of amusement.” — Publishers’ Weekly. 

“ Sportsmen will hail with delight the large and handsome volume descriptive of life 
in the woods which has been issued by the Lippincotts under the title of ‘ The Sportsman’s 
Paradise.’ Any man who loves a gun will find the book a most fascinating one, and will 
hardly be satisfied with a single reading. It is capitally illustrated by Dan 0. Beard and 
Harry Beard.” — Boston Transcript. 

“We heartily commend it to all interested in sport.” — Public Opinion. 

Construction of Bridges. 

A Manual of the Construction of Bridges. By T. Claxton Fidler. With 230 
Engravings printed in the text, and 26 Full-page Plates. 8vo. 420 pages. 
Extra cloth. $7.50. 

The object aimed at in this work is to examine the practice of bridge-construction, 
and the experimental facts on which it is based, in the light of reasonable theory, and to 
state the theory of bridge-construction in such a practical form as will be most useful for 
the purposes for which it is employed; regarding the theory simply as a means to a prac- 
tical end, and not as a field for the employment of learned research. 

“ Mr. Fidler belongs to the new school, and for them he has written a book which is 
an admirable account of the theory and process of bridge-design, at once scientific and 
thoroughly practical. It is a book such as we have a right to expect from one who is him- 
self a substantial contributor to the theory of the sijbject as well as a bridge-builder of 
repute.” — London Review. 

Handy Edition of Thackeray’s Works. 

Complete in 27 vols. “Denis Duval,” etc., 1 vol. “Paris Sketch-Book,” 1 vol. 
“ The Four Georges,” etc., 1 vol. “ Sketches and Travels,” etc., 1 vol. “ Christ- 
mas Books,” 2 vols. “Boundabout Papers,” 1 vol. “Ballads,” 1 vol. “Lovell 
the Widower,” 1 vol. “ Book of Snobs,” 1 vol. “ Fitzboodle Papers,” 1 vol. 
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Diamond,” 1 vol. “ Irish Sketches,” 1 vol. “ Adventures of Philip,” 2 vols. 
“ Henry Esmond,” 1 vol. “ The Virginians,” 2 vols. “ The Newcomes,” 2 
vols. “Barry Lyndon,” etc., 1 vol. “ Pendennis,” 2 vols. “Vanity Fair,” 
2 vols. 16mo. Half cloth. 50 cents per vol. Half morocco. $1.00 per vol. 

A Tale of Two Cities. (1 Vol.) 

Just ready. Handy Edition of Dickens's Worhs^ to be completed in 30 vols. 16mo. 
Previously issued : “ Dombey and Son,” 2 vols. “ A Child’s History of Eng- 
land,” 1 vol. “ Old Curiosity Shop and Reprinted Pieces,” 2 vols. “ Edwin 
Drood and Miscellanies,” 1 yol. “American Notes,” etc., 1 vol. “Bleak 
House,” 2 vols. “ Barnaby Rudge,” 2 vols. “ Pickwick Papers,” 2 vols. 
“ Christmas Stories,” 1 vol. “ Sketches by Boz,” 1 vol. “ Nicholas Nickleby,” 
2 vols. “ Great Expectations,” 1 vol. “ Martin Chuzzlewit,” 2 vols. “ Christ- 
mas Books,” 1 vol. “Oliver Twist,” 1 vol. “David Copperfield,” 2 vols. 
Half cloth. 50 cents per vol. Half morocco. $1.00 per vol. 

In Course of Preparation. — “ Our Mutual Friend,” 2 vols. “ Uncommercial 
Traveller,” 1 vol. “ Little Dorrit,” 2 vols. 

The clear type, fine thin paper, with uncut edges and neat binding, make these little 
books as elegant as one need wish, while the low price will enable all lovers of Dickens to 
possess, at a very small outlay, a good edition of his works. 

13 


NEW PUBLICATIONS OF J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 


BOOKS IN PRESS. 

Half-Hours with the Best Foreign Authors. 

Translations selected and arranged by Charles Morris. 4 vols. Crown 8vo. 
Uniform with ‘‘ Half-Hours with the Best American Authors.’^ Also an Edition 
de Luxe, limited to one hundred copies. In 4 vols. Octavo. 

A Cyclopcedia of Diseases of Children 

And Theik Treatment, Medical and Surgical. Edited by J. M, Keating, 

M.D. 

Botany. 

For Academies and Colleges. By Annie Ciiambers-Ketchum. Plant 
Development and Structure from Sea-weed to Clematis. Two hundred and fifty 
Illustrations, and a Manual of Plants, including all the known Orders, with their 
Bopresentative Genera. 

The Chemical Analysis of Iron. 

A Complete Account of All the Best-Known Methods for the Analysis of Iron, 
Steel, Pig-Iron, Iron Ore, Limestone, Slag, Clay, Sand, Coal, Coke, Furnace, and 
Producer Gases. By Andrew Alexander Blair, Chief Chemist United 
States Board, Appointed to Test Iron, Steel, and Other Metals, 1875 ; Chief 
Chemist United States Geological Survey and Tenth Census, 1880. Octavo. 

BruetoFs Bayou aufl Hiss Defarge. 

No. 2 of The Series of American Novels. By John Habberton, author of 
“ Helen’s Babies,” and Frances Hodgson Burnett, author of “ That Lass o’ 
Lowries.” Complete in One Volume. 

NEW IMPORTATIONS. 

Musical History. 

Briefly Narrated and Technically Discussed, with a Roll of the Names of Musicians, 
and the Times and the Places of their Births and Deaths. By G. A. Mac- 
Farren. 12mo. Cloth. $2.00. 

Picturesque New Guinea. 

With an Historical Introduction and Supplementary Chapters on the Manners and 
Customs. of the Papuans. By J. W. Lindt. With fifty full-page Autotype 
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The Mahers of Venice. 

Doges, Conquerors, Painters, and Men of Letters. By Mrs. Oliphant. With 
Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth. $2.25. 

Tiger Shooting in the Boon and Ulwar. 

With Life in India. By 1. C. Fife-Cookson. Numerous Illustrations by E. 
Hobday. 8vo. Cloth. $4.20. 

The Bards of the Bible. 

Seventh Edition. By G. Gilfillan. 8vo. Cloth. $2.00. 


NEW PUBLICATIONS OF J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 


V 

Thomas A Kempis. 

Notes of a Visit to the Scenes in which his Life was Spent, with Some Account 
of the Examination of his Relics. By E. R. Cruise. Illustrated. 8vo. 
Cloth. $4.80. 

‘‘ 20-BoreT 

Practical Hints on Shooting. Being a Treatise on the Shot-Gun and Its Manage- 
ment, Game, Wild-Fowl, and Trap-Shooting. Fifty-five Illustrations. 8vo. 
Cloth. $4.80. 

Lectures on Bacteria. 

By A. De Bary. B-evised by I. B. Balfour. Twenty Wood-Engravings. 
12mo. Cloth. $1.50. 

Four Months’ Cruise in a Sailing- Yacht 

By E. Edgcumbe and M. Wood. With Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth. $3.00. 

The Watchmakers Hand-Book: 

A Workshop Companion for Those Engaged in Watchmaking and the Allied 
Mechanical Arts, from the French of Claudius Saunier. Translated by Julien 
Tripplin, F.R.A.S,, and Edward Riog, M.A. Second Edition^ Revised^ with 
Appendix. Crown 8vo. Cloth. $3.60. 

Bourrienne s Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte* 

From the French of M. de Bourrienne, Private Secretary to Napoleon, etc. 
New Edition. Complete in One Volume. Cheap Edition. Small crown 8vo. 
600 pages. Cloth bevelled. Gilt top. $1.40. 

The Demon of Dyspepsia; 

Or, Digestion, Perfect and Imperfect. By Adolphus E. Bridger. 8vo. 
Cloth. $1.80. 

’‘^Memoryf 

And the Rational Means op Improving It. By Dr. E. Peck. Fifth 
Edition. 12mo. Cloth. 50 cents. 

Memory and Its Doctors. 

By Dr. E. Peck. 12mo. Cloth. 50 cents. 

Our Sentimental Journey Through France and 

Italy. By Joseph and Elizabeth Pennell. Beautifully Illustrated. 12mo. 
Cloth. $1.40. 

The Laws and Principles of Whist. 

By Cavendish.” Sixteenth Edition. 12mo. Cloth extra. $2.00. 

Whist Development. 

American Leads and the Plain -Suit Echo. By Cavendish.” Third Edition. 
12mo. Cloth extra. $2.00. 

Hand-Book of Practical Botany. 

For the Botanical Library and Private Student. By E. Strausburger. From 
the German by W. Hillhouse. Revised by the author, with one hundred and 
sixteen Original and eighteen Additional Illustrations. 8vo. Cloth extra. 
$3.60. 


15 


NEW PUBLICATIONS OF J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 


CHAMBERS’S ENCYCLOPiEDIA. 

Vol. I. issued Mareli 1. A Dictionary of Universal Knowledge. 


EDITED AND PUBLISHED UNDER THE AUSPICES OF 

W. & R. CHAMBERS, Edinburgh, and J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, Philadelphia. 

ENTIRELY REVISED AND REWRITTEN, 


Complete in ten volumes. To be issued at intervals. Price, per vol. Cloth. $3.00. 
Cloth, uncut. $3.00. Sheep. $4.00. Half’ morocco. $4.50. 


“ It is one of the most valuable works of reference in existence.’’ — New York World, 

“Without making any comparisons with other encyclopaedias of more extended or 
more limited scope, and larger or smaller cost, it may he said with fairness that Chambers’s 
has a field of its own, and holds it worthily. With the important changes, corrections, 
and enlargements that have been made, the addition of maps and the contribution of new 
articles, including those especially written for this country, it becomes a valuable work of 
reference well adapted to the use of professional people as well as the ordinary reader.” — 
Philadelphia American. 

“Few works of the kind have enjoyed an equal popularity, or rendered better service 
to the mass of readers.” — New York Science. 

“ This fine and valuable work will be more desirable than ever in the revised and 
enlarged form in which it is now to he completed.” — Boston Gazette. 

“ Broad in scope, accurate in detail, and moderate in price, Chambers’s has long held 
a place in the front rank. A thorough revision of the entire work has been undertaken, 
and the first volume gives one a good idea of the broad scholarly spirit in which this 
revision has been carried out.” — New York Book Buyer, 

“ This new edition will be widely sought after. The information is very complete, 
without running to the diflferences of other encyclopaedias.” — St. Paul Pioneer Press. 

“Chambers’s is acknowledged to be one of the very best of the world’s standard 
encyclopaedias. ” — Chicago Journal. 

“Altogether it is an accurate, concise, low-priced compendium of universal knowl- 
edge; a rich treasure for any household or public library.” — Maine Argus, 


TO BE ISSUED SHORTLY. 

The Complete Works in Verse and 
Prose of Percy Bysshe Shelley. 

Edited, prefaced, and annotated by Eichard Herne Shepperd. Each volume com- 
plete in itself. 

POETICAL WORKS IN THREE VOLUiyiES. 

VOL. 1. THE POSTHUMOUS FRAGMENTS OF MARGARET NICHOLSON ; 

THE WANDERING JEW ; QUEEN MAR ; ALASTOR, ROSALIND, 
AND HELEN; PROMETHEUS UNBOUND; ADONAIS, Etc. 
VOL. 3. LAON AND CYTHNA ; THE CENCI ; JULIAN AND MADDALO ; 

SWELLFOOT THE TYRANT; THE WITCH OF ATLAS; EPI- 
PSYCHIDION; HELLAS. 

VOL. 3. POSTHUMOUS POEMS; THE MASQUE OF ANARCHY; AND 
OTHER POEMS. 

PROSE WORKS IN TWO VOLUMES. 

VOL. 1. TWO ROMANCES OF ZASTROZZI AND ST. IRVYNE ; A REFU- 
TATION OF DEISM ; LETTERS TO LEIGH HUNT, Etc. 

VOL. 2. THE ESSAYS; LETTERS FROM ABROAD; TRANSLATIONS 
AND FRAGMENTS ; BIBLIOGRAPHY OF SHELLEY, AND AN 
EXHAUSTIVE INDEX. 

In sets of five volumes. Cloth, $6.25; half morocco, gilt top, $10.00: three-quarters 
calf, $16.00. A large paper edition is also in preparation (only one hundred copies printed). 
$ 20 . 00 . 

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17 



LIPFINCOTT'S MONTHLY 



Bicycles anl Tricycles 

for Gentlemen, Ladies, Boys, and 
Misses. 20 DirrSEENT STYLES in 
High and Low-Priced Wheels. Be- 
fore you purchase see our large 
Illustrated Price-List. Sent on re- 
ceipt of stamp. 


The John Wilkinson Co., 55 State Street, Chicago, 111. 



A. G. SPALDING & BROS. 

Have introduced for the 
season of 1888 a superior 
Racket for expert players, 
called the Slocum— price, 
$6. In addition they offer 
many novelties in the line 
of Nets, Balls, Poles, etc. 

Send for Catalogue of 
Summer Sports. 

A. G. SPALDING & BROS., 
241 Broadway, New York. 
108 Madison St., Chicago. 



BICYCLES, TSICYCLES, AND VELOCIPEDES. 


STRONG & GREEN, 

64 N. Fifth St., Philadelphia, 

AGENTS FOR THE 

STAR BICYCTES 



SEND FOR CATALOGUE. 


MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


Another Columbia. 



COLUMBIA TANDEM. 


For ladies and gentlemen ; the only 
American high-grade tandem on the 
market, and the most successful tandem 
manufactured; a front wheel handle- 
bar steerer, which two ladies can ride 
if desired, steered and controlled by 
brake from either seat; readily con- 
vertible into a ‘‘single;’^ as light as a 
roadster tandem can be built. 

The most comprehensive cycling catalogue pub- 
lished, free. 

POPE MFG. CO., 79 Franklin St., Boston. 

Branch houses: 12 Warren St., New York; 291 Wabash 
Ave., Chicago. 



WE CHALLENGE A C0MPASI30N WITH ANY OTHEE GOODS 
FOE VALUE, MEEIT, AND SAFETY. 


Adhering to original sizes, calibre, and weight, we aim to place in the 
hands of inexperienced persons articles safe to use and brilliant in effect. 
Every collection is safely boxed for shipment. 

These are sample lots of our regular manufacture, and represent the 
finest productions made. 

IVe guarantee to d^eliver these assortments hy 
exj^ressy FREE OF ALL CHARGES ybi’/s’ct/i/tf, ai- 
reet to the jiurehaser tvho remits the uavertisea 
price, to any point reached hy the variotis express 
companies. 


COLLECTION No. 4. PRICE, $3.00. 

62 pieces of larger grade than No. .3. 12 Roman Candles, 2 
Flower Pots, 6 Pin Wheels, 4 Bengolas, colored, 6 Volcanoes, 6 
Rockets, 6 Minute Lights, 6 Cones, colored, 4 Triangle Wheels, 
3 Mines, 2 Scroll Wheels, 1 Owl Light, 6 Colored Cones, 5 Slow 
Matches. Usually retailing for aboat $6.00. 

COLLECTION No. 5. PRICE, S5.00. 

70 pieces of larger grade work than No. 4. 12 Rockets, as- 
sorted, 24 Roman Candles, assorted, 1 Chinese Flyer, 3 Bengolas, 
colored, 6 Cones, 6 Minute Lights, 1 Flower Pot, 2 Triangle 
Wheels, 2 Colored Mines, 1 Owl Light, 6 Volcanoes, 6 Slow 
Matches. Usually retailing for over $10.00. 

COLLECTION No. 6. PRICE SIO.OO. 

65 pieces of still larger work and gi*ade. A family lot. 12 
Assorted Rockets, 24 Assorted Roman Candles, 1 Gold Fountain, 
2 Mines, assorted, 1 Bouquet, 1 Red Owl Light, 2 Flower Pots, 
1 Chinese Flyer, 6 Bengal Lights, 1 Vertical Wheel, 2 Triangle 
Wheels, 6 Minute Lights, 6 Slow Matches. Usually retailing 
for over $20.00. 


COLLECTION No. 8. PRICE, SiAS.OO. 

75 pieces medium size work, well assorted in variety. A fine 
display for a club. 24 Rockets, assorted, 6 Colored Bengolas, 3 
Mines, assorted, 18 Roman Candles, assorted, 2 Bouquets, Silver, 
1 Gold Fountain, 2 Flower Pots, 2 Campaign Lights, 2 Owl 
Lights, 1 Chinese Flyer, 1 Vertical Wheel, 1 Exhibition Trian- 
gle, 1 Sancession Mine, 2 Floral Shells, 1 Floral Battery, 1 Tri- 
angle Wheel, 6 Slow Matches. Usually retailing for about 
$50.00. 

COLLECTION No. 10. PRICE, 850.00. 

6.5 pieces, large size, work embracing some of the best articles 
made. A small exhibition for a village, hotel, seaside, or moun- 
tain resort; will satisfactorily entertain an hour any audience ; 
viz.. 24 Rockets, Assorted, 6 Parachutes, assorted, 3 Floral 
Bombs, 3 Meteoric Shells, 2 Candle Batteries, 1 Lance Design, 
5 Matches, 6 Large Bengolas, 3 Gold Fountains, 1 Saxon Wheel, 
4 Heavy Mines, 1 Vertical Wheel, 6 Owl Lights. Over $100.00 
at retail prices. 


The above is a brief synopsis of 5 of our 12 Special Box Collections, which we send, eo^ess prepaid, at price from $1.00 to $100.00, 
and are fully described in our catalogue, /rec to any address. Send for it. Each box contains printed directions how to use and fire each 
article. 

MASTEN & WEIjLiS, Mfrs», 18 Hawley St., Boston, Mass. 
i8 



LIPPINCOTT'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 



style 310. 60c. 

Boys or Girls. 

1 to 4 years. 


Boys or Girls. 
4 to 6 years. 


BHOTIFOLMlISfN/ 


In the United States^ England andCanada wear 

BOOD SENSE 

FERRIS’ PATENT BUTTONS AT FRONT instead of Clasps 

CORDED CORSET WAISTS 

Material and BEST Workmanship 
. _ . throughout. Our aim is to make the: 

THE BEST IN THE WORLD. 

SOLD at LEADING RETAIL STORES EVERYWHERE. 

Lady Canvassers are very successful] 
with these goods. Send for Descriptiv 
Circular and Price List. 

FERRIS BROS., Mfrs., 

MARSHALL FIELD & CO., Wholesale Western Agts. Chic^ 
VCUNG. CARTER & OVERALL. Agents. LONDON. ENGLAND. 



Stylo 319. 
Style 318. 
Style 380. 
Style 331. 


■pm wammm 

yug send one dime and 2-cent stamp 

for our package Crazy Patchwork wy 

H Silk, and receive loo Songs free. M 

Jm GEO. W. MALLORY, 

B « Beardstown, 111. B % 

flaaiEm *x«x*x*x*x* 

1 Ladies and Misses to do crochet 

mAm work at home ; city or country ; steady work, 
WBB WESTERN LACE MFG. CO., 

1 w W 218 State St., Chicago, III. 

SUPERFLUOUS 

MM A 1 E9 Mrs. W. W. HAD- 

■ ■ LEY, 175 Tremont Street, Bos- 

ton. P. 0 . Address, 358 Summer Street, Lynn, Mass. 

“STAMMERING” 

And All Defects of Speech Permanently Cured. 

*'Dear SiTf—l never saw worse stammerers than those you 
brought to me, and the cure that was wrought upon them was 
very rapid and truly wonderful. I am willing to say this in 
writing, or tell it to any one who may call upon me 

“Yours truly, John Wanamaker, City Hall Sq., Phila." 

Geo. W. Childs, Proprietor Phila. Ledger, has also seen a 
number of my M'orst cases before and after cured. For full 
information, address E. S. JOHNSTON, Eleventh and 
Spring Garden Streets, Philadelphia. 

DRUNKARD 

There is no happiness either for you or your family, 
your wife or your children, while you continue spending 
money for rum. Make a change at once for the better. 
Get one bottle of 

PFEIL’S ANTIDOTE 

for alcoholism, costing but a dollar, and in less than a 
week you will have done with liquor forever. Sold by 
all druggists and at office. 

No. 155 North Second St., Philadelphia, Pa. 
Send for circular. Shipped to all parts of the world. 

HOMOSOPATHY. 

** Cheap” goods are easily supplied, particularly cheap 
Homoeopathic medicines. A ** cheap” rope isn’t wanted 
for mountain-climbing, though. Verbuni sap. Ours are 
the only Homoeopathic medicines in this country which 
have received International awards. Sold by leading 
druggists. 25 cents gets a 50-dose vial by mail. Book, 
Catalogue, and Medicine-Case Price-List mailed free. 

BOERICKE & TAFEL, ion Arch St., Philadelphia, 
Pa. ; 145 Grand St., New York ; 36 Madison St., Chicago. 

Established in 183S' 

“ECLIPSE” OOPYma APPAEATUS. 

The best duplicating process extant. One thousand 
copies in black only equalled by lithography. Perfect 
fac-similes of your Handwriting. In many cases 
** Eclipse” circulars have been taken for ordinary 
written letters. Specimens and circulars on application. 

FELIX F. DAUS & CO., 

21 SeeUman St., Netv Yorh, 

^WMGLEY’S $1 



FOR 3 FOR X2 FOR 20 

A SilTer-Plated Teaspoozi. A Silver-Plated Sugar-Shell. A Silver-Plated Butter-Enife* 

GROCERS SELL ITo THE WRIGLEY MFG. CO., Philadelphia, Pa. 

19 




LIPPINCOTTS MONTHLY MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


English Compact Cameras. 

Compactness is 
the principal fea- 
ture of this Cam- 
era. We have in 
it all the desirable 
facilities possible, 
combining great 
lightness with rig- 
idit)’’, perfection of 
detail with sim- 
plicity and ease of 
working in small- 
est space, and 
with the least 
weight, and every 
convenience and 
facility possessed 
by any Camera. 

A partial front 
view of the Camera, 
folded, showing the 
sunken tripod top, 
with clamping 
screw in centre. 

Send 10 Cents for 1888 
Edition Illustrated Catalog^ue, 150 pages* 

Brimful of new and improved apparatus. 

The Amateur Guide in Photography. 

T1I£ £l>lTIOX 

Is the most comprehensive treatise for the beginner ever published. 
It is not an advertisement for the publishers’ goods, but is fdled with 
advice and valuable information gleaned from a knowledge of the 
beginner’s requirements gained by constant contact with students 
in Photography, while acquiring their knowledge of the art, extend- 
ing over a period of seven years. Sent, post-paid, on receipt of 
25 cents. 

THE BEAIR CAMERA CO. 


BALTIMORE 

AMERICAN. 

ESTABlilSIHED 1773. 


THE DAILY AMERICAN. 

Terms by mail, postage prepaid, 50 cents per month. 
With Sunday edition, 65 cents. 

THE weekly" AMERICAN. 

EIGHT PAGES. 

The Cheapest and Best Family News- 
paper Published. 

Only One JOollaf a Yeaf, 

Six Iftonths, OO Cents, 

Send for a sample copy, showing club terms and 
premiums. 

The Weekly American and Eippincott’s 
Magazine, one year, for ^3.00, the price of 
the Magazine alone. 

Address 

CHAS. C. FULTON & CO., 

FEIjJX A.ONVSf Manayer and JE^sblisher, 



208 State Sti) Chicago. 918 Arch St.| Phlladelpliia. 

OFFICE AND FACTORY: 

471. 473. 475 <$2 477 Tremout Boston. Mass* 

Barnes’ Patent Foot Power Machinery 

Workers of Wood or Metal, 

without steam power, by using outfits of these 
Machines, can bid lower, and save ^ 

more money from their jobs, thanf 
by any other means for doing their 
work. Also for INDITSTRIAh 
SCHOOLS or Home TRAINING. 

With them boys can acquire practi- 
cal journeyman’s trade before they 
“go for themselves.” Send for Cata- 
logue. W. F. & JOHN BARNES 
OO., No. Roby St., Roekford, Hi. 



American Office, 

BALTIMORE, MD. 


BUYJHE WRINGER SAV^ 

thj most LABOR 
J^PURCHASEGEAR 

*=^(1 Saves half the labor of other 
wringers, and costs but little more. 
E^DIDCOoesnot GREASE 

Cmr iKfc The CLOTHES. 



Solid White Rubber Rolls. Warranted. Agents 
xKrnr>^r>A Kinnlre W. Co.. Auburn, N. T 


WONDERFULLY POPULAR. The Crowning Life work of the late 



BEN PERLEY POORE 

^icy Reminiscences of 60 years* life amongthe Brilliant Men and Proud Ladies of the'nation’s camtaL 
Eminent critics say of it: '^FuUofinteresV^-ELon. JohnSherman. Charming in ev^^inef^ -Hon. 


S Memorial Edition. 

\ LOW PRICE. JUST OUT. 


AGENTS 

Wanted. 



Phila., Chicago, or Kansas City. 


WATERLOO 0R6ANS 

are noted for anequalled quality of tone, #ii- 
perior finish and design of eases. They pump 
one^half easier than any other made, 

BEST IN THE WORLD. 

In localities where we have no agents will 
sell direct to public at wholesale prices. Eor 
prices and catalogues, address 

MALCOLM LOVE & CO., 

Waterloo, N. T. 

AGENTS COIN MONW who sell Dr. Chase’s 

Family Physician.” 3000 sold in one month. Address 
A. W. HAMILTON, Ann Arbor, Mich. 

D yspeptics, incurable preferred, WANTED. Ad- 
dress J. J. F. Pop p, Phila, , Pa. Mention this magazine. 

nnurnnT’O PURE spices 
lUmrUnl d cookingTxtracts. 

17 North Eleventh St., Philadelphia, Pa. 



^ /«) 


Jhe American Cycles 

Descriptive Catalogue 
,^onApplication. 

fiOEMUllYaJEFEERY 

c<-MFG.CO,=:^- 
Chicago. III. 
1st Manufacturers IN AMERICA 


Bound in Half Cloth. 50 cents. 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, 

PUBLISHERS. 


20 


LIPPINCOTTS MONTHLY MAGAZINE ADVERTISED 


HORSMAN’S 

IMPROVED 



TENNIS RACKETS 

For 1888. 


“Casino,” “ Perfection,” and “Seabright,” 

Send for Horsman’s Tennis Catalogue for 1888. 

E. L HORSMAN, 80 & 82 WILLIAM ST., NEW YORK, 


People of refined taste desir- 
ing specially fine Cigarettes 
j should use our “ Satin,’* “Four- 
lin-Hand,” “Athletic,” and “ Cu- 
jpid.” STRAIGHT CUT, 
Hand-Made, from the best 
Virginia and Turkish leaf. 

PEERLESS TOBACCO WORKS, 
Established 1846. 14 Prize Medals. 

Wm. S. Kimball & Co., Rochester, N. Y. 



THE 


HANDY PAMPHLET CASE. 

USEFUL FOR 



Classifying Pamphlets, 
Keeping Sermons in, 
Saving Magazines, 
Business Catalogues, 
Filing Price-Lists, 
Librarians want it, 
Literary men need it. 
Physicians should have it. 
Clergymen appreciate it. 

Neat, Cheap, and Handy. 
Put up two in a nest. Ths 
outside cases 10x8x3. The 
inside case inch smaller. 
All in Paper labelled Pam- 
phlets; Cloth are labelled 
Harpers, Atlantic, St. Nich- 
olas, or Pamphlets, as pre- 
ferred. 

Cloth, $4.60 doz ; 45 cts. 
each. Paper, $3.50 doz.; 35 


cts. each. Cloth Sample mailed for 50 cents. 

NIMS & KNIGHT, Troy, N.Y 



•THE' 


URMAN 

STEAM 


HEATER 


is guaranteed to furnish more heat 
per lb. of fuel burned, than any 
other apparatus in the world. 
Macl6~in 16 sizes. BUB17S equally well EABD OB SOFT 
COAL. Send for full Illustrated Catalogue. Address 


HERENDEEN MFC. CO., 

GENEVA, N.Y. 


W ANTED — All Foundrymen to send for Keim’s 
Water Jacketed Cupola Furnace Catalogue. It’s 
the best one out and a great labor-saver. Mining men 
should send for a catalogue of Smelting Machinery and 
Diamond Bit Rock-Drill, that brings up a solid core looo 
ft. Address Harlsfeld Furnace Co., Limited, Boi 459, Cincinnati, 0. 


P AINLESS PARTURITION POSSIBLE. 

Tokology, by Alice B. Stockham, M. D.,is a noble 
book for a noble purpose. Sample pages Free. 80,000 

sold. Mot., ^.75. SANITARY PUB. CO.j CHICAGO. 


Dobbins’ tilectric l^oap. 


THE BEST FAMILY SOAP 
IN THE WORLD. 

It is Strictly Pure, lluifori in Quality. 


T he original formula for which we paid $ 50,000 
twenty years ago has never been modified or 
changed in the slightest. This soap is iden- 
tical in quality to-day with that 
made twenty years ago. 

TT contains nothing that can injure 
the finest fabric. It brightens colors 
and bleaches whites. 

TT washes flannels and blankets as no other soap in 
^ the world does — without shrinking — leaving them 
soft and white and like new. 


READ THIS TWICE. 


T here is a great saving of time, of labor, of 
soap, of fuel, and of the fabric, where Dobbins* 
Electric Soap is used according to directions. 
QNE trial will demonstrate its great merit. It 
^ will pay you to make that trial. 

T IKE all best things, it is extensively imitated 
^ and counterfeited. 




Peware of Imitations. 




TNSIST upon Bobbins’ Electric. Don’t take 
Magnetic, Electro-Magic, Philadelphia Electric, or 
any other fraud, simply because it is cheap. They will 
ruin clothes, and are dear at any price. Ask for 


O 0-4 BOBBINS’ ELECTRIC 


and take no other. Nearly every grocer from Maine to 
Mexico keeps it in stock. If yours hasn’t it, he will or- 
der from his nearest wholesale grocer. 

Ti EAD carefully the inside wrapper around each bar, 
and be careful to follow directions on each 
outside wrapper. You cannot afford to wait longer 
before trying for yourself this old, reliable, and truly 
wonderful 


Dobbins’ ^ Electric * Soap. 


10.000 Genuine Ancient Arrow-Heafls 


for sale cheap. Four varieties neatly ar- 
ranged on card and sent, post-paid, for 25c. Catalogue 
free with order. J. B. NISSLB7, Ada, Hardin Co., Ohio. 




RLOW>S INDICO BLUE. 


Its merits as a WASH BLUE have been fully tested and 
endorsed by thousands of housekeepers. Your grecer ought 
to have it on sale. Ask him for it. D. S. WILTBERGER, 
Proprietor, 233 North Second Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 


21 












A combined and cb! 

Marker and Card 




^ult^t., N. Y. 


naaa^aiaaitfssro^otit 


BUSINESS OUTFITftI?? 

COMMERClMbumTftl?? 


LIPPINCOTTS MONTHLY MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


J. & R. 


Color Pecoration for the Church. 

This department is under the direction of Mr. F. S. Lamb 
(pupil of Boulangiere & LeFebvre). Sketches will be submitted 
upon request and will include designs for 

STAINED GLASS, 

MEMORIAL WINDOWS, Etc. 


SEND FOR ILLUSTRATED CATALOGUE. 

LAMB, 59 Carmine St, New York. 

ESTABLISHED 1857. 


Beautiful and Lasting: for ORNAMENTING 
WINDOWS, DOORS, TRANSOMS, Etc. 


Stained 


SUBSTITUTE 

AT SMALL COST. Send for Illustrated Catalogue 
and Prices. Samples by mail, 25 cents. 

W r VnilIMP Sole Agent, 735 Arch St., 
• U. I UUllU, PHILADELPHIA, PA. 
Agents Wanted Everywhere. 

R. M. LAMBIE,^ 


ALL KINDS OF 

BOOK 

HOLDERS 

The Most Perfect 

Dictionary Holder. 

Send for Illustrated 
Catalogue. 

39 East 19th St., N.Y. 


STAMP FOR Catalogue. 

We are the only Music-Box House in Philadelphia that import 
all their instruments direct from the manufactory in Switzerland. 

I A nV agents clear S104> Monthly with our new 
Lnl# I undergarments and other goods for ladies only. 

G. L. ERWIN & CO, Chicago, 111. 
Mention Lippincott’s Magazine in your letter when you write. 

Practical, and Durable. 20 to 30 words a minute can be 
written. GEO. R. BLAKELY, Bradford, MoKeaa Co., Pa. 

00 Domestic Type- Writer. Sold ist yr. 1,000 
VA* at $s ; 2d, 25,000 at $2. Now at sales are im- 
mense. Catalogue, Sample Work, and Testimonials 
free. H. S. INGERSQLL, 46 Cortlandt St., N. Y. 

r AT home and make more money at work for u» 

tf Ub VI then at anything else in the world. Either sex ; all ages. Cost- 
ly outfit FEEE. Terms FSEE. Address, Tbue & Co., Augusta, Maine 


Mark your 
Clothing! ' 
Clear Rec- 
ord of 
half a 
Cen- 
tury. 


“Most Reliable and Sim- 
or deco- 
rative 
mark- 


com- 


mon 


pen. 


Sold by all Druggists, Stationers, 
News and Fancy Goods dealers. 


THE BEST CALICOES. 


WM. SIMPSON & SONS, 

SILVER GRAYS AND BLACK AND WHITES 

MOURNING PRINTS. 

NOVELTIES IN 

EDDTSTONE 

FANCY PRINTS. 

FAST OOI-.OF.S. 


BANDS OF COMFORT, manufactured by A. M. 
& L. D. Lawson, will save you many pains and aches, 
and are the best protection against colds, etc. Send for 
prices, etc., to A. M. & L. D. LAWSON, 

1444 Broadway, N. Y. 


Aiineil 
rinter. 

AINS 4 alphabets of type, nickel 
holder, indelible ink, pads tweezers, etc 
Sent post paid for only 

SentFroo. UULtO 


SHORTHAND. 


Private Instruction by 
practical verbatim re- 
porter. 16 years* experience. No failures. Situations 
guaranteed. Book and Circulars Free. FRANK HAR- 
RISON, Stenographer, 721 Broad Street, Newark, N. J . 

(( The Best Cure in the World for coughs ^ 
colds, and consumption is Cutler Bros. & Co*s well- 
known Boston Vegetable Pulmonary Balsam. 






LJPPINCOTT'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE ADVERTISER, 


JARVIS-CONKLIN 

MORTGAGE TROST COMPANY. 


Capital and Surplus, $1,140,000. 


SAM'L M. JARVIS, President. 

ROLAND R. CONKLIN, Secretary. 

Guaranteed Mortgages, Debenture Bonds, 

AND 

Investment Securities. 

239 Broadway, New York, 

118 West Sixth Street, Kansas City, Mo,, 

AND 

144 South Fourth Street, Fhiladelphia, 
THE 

Fidelity and Casualty Company 

OF NEW YORK. 

Nos. 214 and 216 Broadway, N.Y. 

Capital, $250,000.00. Assets, Jan. i, '88, $642,221.32. 



Guarantee Fund to secure Investors, 
$2,600,000. 


Conservative Management ensured by double 
liability of Stockholders, 


33 years* continuous business without the loss 
of a dollar to a single investor. 


PHILADELPHIA DIRECTORS! 

WM. B. BEMENT, Industrial Iron Works. 

GEO. BURNHAM, Baldwin Locomotive Works. 

GEO. PHILLER, Pres. First National Bank. 

GEO. M. TROUTMAN, Pres. Central National Bank. 
WM. McGEORGE, Jr., Counsellor at Law. 


The celebrated 6 per cent. First Mortgages of this 
Company in amounts from $200 to $20,000, the principal 
and interest of which are guaranteed by the above fund, 
for sale at par and accrued interest. Send for pamphlets. 

WM. McGEORGE. Jr., 

Bullitt Building, 131-143 Sottth 4th St, 

ESTABLISHED 1846. 

FRANKLIN 


PRINTING INK WORKS, 


Issues SURETY BONDS guaranteeing the 
fidelity of persons in positions of trust, such as Em- 
ployees of Railroads, Banks, etc., also Administrators, 
Guardians, etc. 

Issues ACCIDENT POLICIES, containing 
all modern features. 

Also PLATE GLASS AND BOILER 
POLICIES of approved forms. 


JOHN WOODRUFF'S SONS, 

1S17 and. 1S19 Clierry Street, 

PHILADELPHIA, PA. 

This Magazine is printed with John Woodruffs Sons’ Ink. 

CAMPBELL PRINTING PRESS MFC. CO. 


OFFICERS: 

Wm. M. Richards, President. 

Geo. F. Seward, Vice-President. 

John M. Crane, Secretary. 

Rob’t J. Hildas, Asst. Secretary. 


MANUFACTURERS OF 

HIGH CLAGG CYLIRDER PREGGEG. 


Send for Circulars and Catalogues. 


DIRECTORS : 


Geo. S. Coe . . Pres. American Exchange Nat. Bank. 


J. S. T. Stranahan Pres. Atlantic Dock Co. 

A. E. Orr Of David Dows & Co. 

G. G. Williams .... Pres. Chemical National Bank. 

A. B. Hull Retired Merchant. 

H. A. Hurlbut . Pres, of Commissioners of Emigration. 
J. D. Vermilye . . . Pres. Merchants National Bank. 

John L. Riker Of J. L. & D. S. Riker. 

J. G. McCullough .... Pres. Panama Railway Co. 

T. S. Moore Of Moore, Low & Wallace. 

J. Rogers Maxwell .... Pres. Central R. R. of N. J. 

Wm. M. Richards President. 

Geo. F. Seward Vice-President. 


HHKg- JOHJQM FABFRS SIBERIAK IMP ~PERCir. 


U SED AND RECOMMENDED by Meissonier, Kaitl- 
BACH, Von Piloty, Gab. Max, and the most emi- 
nent artists throughout the world. The 

Johann Faber Siberian LeadPenciis. 

None genuine unless stamped Johann Faber. For sale 
by all stationers and dealers in Artists’ Materials. 

QUEEN & CO., PHILADELPHIA, 

General Agents for the U. S. 


160 William Street, New York, 

306 Dearborn Street, Chicago. 


LIPPINCOTT’S MONTHLY 


IS PRINTED ON A 

CAMPBELL PRESS. 


PRINT YOUR OWN CARDS! 

Press $ 3 . 00 . Circular Press $ 8 . 00 , News- 
paper Size, $ 44 . 00 . Type-setting easy. 
Printed directions. Send 2 stamps for our 
list of Presses, Type, etc., to factory. 

KELSEY & GO., Meriden, Conn. 
Please Mention this Magazine. 



I N OF FI CE BUILDINGS, 

i with U, S, Mail Chutes, (pat’d), 
B and the TJ, S. free eolleetiori ser~ 
fl vice, tenants mail letters without 
fi going down stairs. Write for par- 
ticulars, The Cutler Mfg. Co,, 
Rochester, N.Y., Sole Makers.' 


23 


LIPPJNCOTTS MONTHLY MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


MIRRORS, 
ENGRAVINGS, 
ETCHINGS, 




1022 MARKET ST., PHILA., PA.,^ 

LEADING TENNIS OUT-FITTERS.. 

In shape our 
^^Talte^^ 

Racket does 

not differ a particle from either the Seek 
maii^^ or ‘‘ Sears*^^ In strin^in^, we claim 
superiority, as we use Imported Out which by 

actual test stands 30 per cent, more strain than the Ameri- 
can gut. We use the same gut in our Quaker City 
Racket. Send for our Complete Tennis Catalogue. In- and out-door 
sports of every description. 

Miuton Stanlarl Typewriter. 


OT TEH. 8s,ooo XKT x>..aLXXji'sr xtsde:. 

ABSOLUTE SATISFACTION GUARANTEED. 



Remington Typewriter No. 2. 


miFF, SEAUAHS i BEMEI, 327 Sriiimy, N.7. 

Boston, Mass. ; Philadelphia, Pa. ; Washington, D.C. ; Baltimore, Md. ; 
Chicago, III. ; St. Louis, Mo. ; Indianapolis, Ind. ; Minneapolis, Minn. ; 
St. Paul, Minn. ; Kansas City, Mo. ; Denver, Col. ; Cleveland and Cin- 
cinnati, Ohio ; London, England. Send for pamphlet. 



Is it worth your while to give up 

drinking COCOA -iTHETA during the summer 
months ? Unlike most chocolate preparations, Wil- 
bur’s Cocoa-Theta is adapted to the use of every 
family all the year around. Order of your grocer. 

^•voii:) iisd:iT^Tion5rs. 

H. O. WILBUR & SONS, 

SOLE MANUFACTURERS, 


24 


LIPPINCOTTS MONTHLY MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 



y ^ ' — " — — 

A TWELVE-ROOM MODERN HOUSE OF LOW COST. 


The floor plans, full description and cost (for different localities) of the above house 
AND OF CO OTHER BEAUTIFUL HOUSES AND COTTAGES, 
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Address R. W. SnoppELii, Aschitect, 63 Broadway, New York. (Mention this paper.) 


MARION HARLAND. 


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25 


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26 


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ARCHIVES OF PEDIATRICS. 

A MOPiTTHLI^Y JOURl^Al^. 

devoted to the diseases op inpants and childeen. 

Subscription Price, $3.00 per Year. 


The publishers take pleasure in announcing that, in addition to the 
regular contributions, the following valuable series of scientific articles will 
be published in the Archives of Pediatrics during 1888 : 

L THERAPEUTICS OF INFANCY AND CHILDHOOD, 

by A. Jacobi, M.D., Clinical Professor of Diseases of Children in the Col- 
lege of Physicians and Surgeons, President of the New York Academy of 
Medicine, etc. 

The plan and scope of these articles are given in the following extract 
from Prof. Jacobi’s letter to our editor : 

“ I will prepare an essay of ten or twelve pages for every monthly issue of your journal. 
The subjects will be therapeutical. The first paper will probably contain general principles 
in their application to the disorders of early age. The following will treat of the thera- 
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dominal viscera, muscles and bones, skin, nervous system, etc. Other subjects which will 
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anti-febriles, purgatives, absorbents, roborants and stimulants, etc. If there be time and 
room, the most interesting diseases, such as epilepsy, chorea, whooping-cough, and growths, 
may become the subjects of special papers.’^ 

Began in January and will run through the year. 


II. THE SYPHILITIC AND GENITO-URINARY DISEASES OF 
INFANTS AND YOUNG CHILDREN, 

by F. R. Sturgis, M.D., Professor of Venereal and Genito-Urinary Dis- 
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1 . General considerations of S3rphilis in children and the methods by which it may be 
acquired. 

2. Lesions of the skin and mucous membranes in syphilitic children. 

3. Lesions of the bones, viscera, and nervous system in syphilitic children. 

4. Affections of the eye, ear, and teeth in syphilitic children. 

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6. Diseases of the bladder and urethra in children. 

7. Functional disorders of the genito-urinary organs. 

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Began in January and will run to August. 

III. THE MEDICAL DISEASES OF THE MOUTH IN CHILDREN, 

by F. Forchheimer, M.D., Professor of Diseases of Children in the Medical 
College of Ohio, at Cincinnati. 

Begin in September and run through the year. 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, Publishers, 

915 and 719 Mat*Uet Street ^ Philadelphia, 

27 


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LIPPINCOTTS MONTHLY MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


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29 


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A MAGNIFICENT AND UNRIVALLED WORK. 


A New Varionun Edition of 

SHAKESPEARE. 

Edited by HORACE HOWARD FERNESS. 

In large 8vo Volumes. Superfine Toned Paper. Pine Cloth. Uncut Edges. Gilt Top. 

In this New Variorum edition of Shakespeare will be found : 

First. — On the same page with the text, a collation of the ancient copies, folio and quarto, 
and of the majority of modern critical editions. 

Secondly. — The notes (also on the same page with the text) of all the editors whose texts 
are collated, together with other notes, emendations, conjectures, and comments from all sources 
accessible to the editor and deemed worthy of preservation. 

Thirdly. — In an appendix will be found reprints of those early quartos which are so unlike 
the received text as to preclude the possibility, within the restricted limits of foot-notes, of giving 
an intelligible record of their collation with other editions. Also, criticisms and illustrations 
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tary on the same page with the text. A volume will be devoted to each play, and will be wholly 
independent of the rest. 


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pnce by ^ LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, Publishers, 

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30 


LIPPINCOTTS MONTHLY MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


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latest subject, 

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“ IMDISPENSABLE TO E¥ERY DRUGGIST AMD PHYSICIAN.” 

^ ^ T XI Tg I ^ 

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(WITH DENISON’S PATENT INDEX.) ^ 



FIFTEENTH EHITION. ILLUSTRATED. 

Carefullj Bevised and Eewritten by 

MORAO^IO C. WOOO, M.»., J. P. RBMINOXOl^, PIi.Om 

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** We commend this work as a most valuable addition not only to pharmaceutical literature, but to 
the medical profession as almost invaluable. Its literature, its chemistry, and its pharmacy are fully up 
to any similar work here or abroad of its kind, and the high standard of excellence in the past is only 
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“ It has been the vade-mecum of every practitioner, more valued than, perhaps, any other book in 
the library. Every edition has been an improvement upon the one preceding it, and the volume has 
grown in value and scope as it has grown in bulk and popularity.” — Gaillard's Medical Journal. 

‘‘As a work of reference it has few equals and no superiors in our language, and it does great 
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“ The present edition sustains the high reputation of former editions.” — London Practitioner. 

“ It forms a valuable work of reference as well for the practitioner as for the pharmacist.” — Dublin 
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“ The book as a whole is one that is most worthy to hold a place in the pharmacist’s select library.” 
— London Pharmaceutical Journal, 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, Publishers, 

For Sale by all Booksellers. 715 and 717 Market St., Philadelphia. 


32 


LIPPINCOTT'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


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33 





LIPPINCOTTS MONTHLY MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


MASON & HAMLIN 

. oi?-C3-^isrs. 

Supplied to Queen Victoria, H. I.M.,The Empress Eugenie, The Rotal NAVT,The 
Cunard Steamers “Etruria” and “Umbria,” Sir Arthur Sullivan, Dr. Bridge, Dr. 
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Archer, J. K. Paine, Italo Campanini, X. Scharwenka, Strauss, and missionaries in 
all parts of the world. Also used in The Theo. Thomas Orchestra, Metropolitan 
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■■ ■ ■ ■■ " ■■■' ■ LISZT ORGAN (with Pipe Top). 

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Price $1.00. Sold by druggists. Send for circulars. 

WELLS, RICHARDSON & CO., Proprietors, 

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FOR THE HAIR 


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34 




LIPPINCOTTS MONTHLY MAGAZINE ADVERTISEI , 


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For sale everywhere. 

BUTTON & OTTLEY, Mfrs., 71 Barclay SL, N.Y 



Perfectly nourishes the child from birth, without the addition of cow’s milk, 
and digests as easily as human milk. Send for “Our Baby’s First and Second 
Years,” by Marion Harland. REED & CARNRICK, New York, 



NIVERSITLPIANOS 

FROM $180 TO $1500. 

FINEST PIANOS IN THE WORLD. 

SOLD DIRECT TO FAMILIES, saving 
the enormous expenses of agents. 
Sent with beautiful cover, stool 
and book, for trial In your own 
home before you buy.Guaranteed 
six years. Send for catalogue to 
darchal & Smith Plano Co.. SS5 E. Slst St.* N T 



MaRTGAGE nOMBANY. 


Capital Subscribed • • . 82,000,000 
Capital Paid in (Cash) • • 1,000,000 


6 PER CENT. DEBENTURES and GUARAN- 
TEED FARM MORTGAGES. Interest payable 
semi-annually at any of our oflBces. Our mortgages 
are upon improved FARMS ONLY. We loan no 
money on the unduly stimulated property 
of the towns and cities. Also 

MUNICIPAL BONDS. 

OFFICES. 

NEW YORK, 208 B'way. I PHILADA., Cor. Cbcst- 
BOSTON, X 17 Devonshire nut and 4th Streets. 

Street. I LONDON, England. 

SEND FOR PAMPHLET. 


SEDGWICK STEEL WIRE FENCE. 



The best Farm, Garden, Poultry Yard, Lawn, 
School Lot, Park and Cemetery Fences and Gates. 
Perfect Automatic Gate. Cheapest and Neatest 
Iron Fences. Iron and wire Summer Houses, Lawn 
Furniture, and other wire work. Best Wire Stretch- 
er and Plier. Ask dealers in hardware, or address 

SEDGWICK BROS., Richmond, Ind. 

EDWARD SUTTON, Eastern Aeent, 

300 MARKET ST... PHILADELPHIA, PA. 


YOUNG FOLKS, containing German Stories, with English 
translation. Sub., $x. Young Folks, Box 2020, N. Y, 

Summer Resorts and Excursions. 

Send four cents in stamps for copy of Illustrated 
Tourist Book, containing sketches and list of Summer 
Hotels and Boarding Houses for season of 1888. The 
Great Four-Track New York Central and Hudson River 
Railroad is the favorite route for Summer travel to New 
York, Boston, or New England. Trains arrive at Grand 
Central Station in heart of New York City near resi- 
dences, hotels, and theatres. 

Address HENRY MONETT, G.P.A., 

Grand Central Station, New York City. 


4 t 3 l 



em 

@oSn.e 

Roo]^ 

^adcs. 


HEALTHFUL LIQUID substitute: 

FOR 

TOOTH POWDER 

KEEPS THE TEETH V/HITE.THE BREATH SWEET 
Ik . -ANDTHE GUMS HEALTHY t 

^^UONTAINS NO GRIT. NO ACID 

NOR ANYTHING INJURIQUS..^^, 

directions<S^^^ 
D1 P TH e'bRUSH I N W AT E R, S PRl N KLE^O N A FE W 
DROPS OF BuBIFPAM'and APPLYIN THE USUAL MANKER. 


PRICE 25<F A bottle 

PUT UP BY. 

E.W- HOVX Sc. CO. 

PROPRIETORS OF 

hoyt's german cologne. 

1.0 W E: L L , AA A.S 5. 


35 




Xj. S EC -A. W, 


All Goods 


54 West 14th St, near 6th Ave., New York. 

World-renowned Eugenie’s Secret of Beauty, or ‘‘C.B.” 

For the complexion; transparent; recommended by physicians ; warranted 
perfectly harmless superior to all other preparations. Tested and applied free 
of charge ; ammonia will not turn it black, as it does other cosmetics ; thou 
sands of testimonials can be seen. Price, $i.oo and 50 cents per box. 

THE MONTE CRISTO VELOIJTINE FACE-POWDER. 

HIGHEST MEDALS AWARDED FOR SAME. 

THE COSMETIC MASK (Patented). 

For beautifying the complexion. $2.00, complete. 

Turkish Rose Leaves, indelible tint, for the face and lips ; exquisite in color 
fine as the blush of the rose. $1.00 and bottle. 

The Genuine Auburnine, wonderful preparation for coloring any 

lade of hair — ’ — 

can be exchanged at my expense. 


shade of hair golden brown ; price,jfc.o 

Send for Illustrated Catalogue. 


THE NEW MODEL, 


OUR 


LATEST and BEST 

MOWER. 


For 
Simpli- 
city and 
durability, 
and quality 
of work, it is 
unequalled, while 
for Lightness of 
draft it excels by a 
large percentage any 
other Lawh Mower 
made. Send for circu- 
lar and price-list. 

CHADBORN & 
COLBWELL 
MANUF’G CO., 

Newburgh, N. Y. 



D e ix n ftt u wi* 

WARDROBE HOOKS^ 

Oa« Etook « — w_a_ 

will gtw 
yon an 
additional 
oloaat.. 



IHo. a. 

Gloaata. 

So. 3. Hat 
Stnd alno 
inokoa 
Raatanranta 
and Olnba. 

_ «*ur hl(h. 

Tsb OameiU cu b« Sbm oe ^ ut 

desind srticle eu k renoved vitlMat Uking off 
the otlian Draw forward tho kopa of tke oator 
gamaU nt» tho o«Ur owirdad hook, omb it. ro- 
mor% garwmt wasted, thoi eka it aad slip tko 
renaiuBg garants back. Om Hook will giro tko 
oawo hanging capadtj as four of tho old stjk. 
taring a great deal of ipaM. which is always 
raloahle in closets or hallways 

Jayne A Croaby, llO Zatberty St., 
IVSW YORK. 







NATURE’S NERVE TONIC. 


TBADX MASK 


Nature’s Specific for Bright’s Disease. 

A Powerful Nervous Tonic, it is a wonderful restorative in Nervous exhaustion, neuralgia, and 
affections generally of the nervous system. Both a remedy for and preventive of Mental and Physical 
Exhaustion from Overwork or Bright’s Disease, Gout, Rheumatic Gout, Rheumatism, Acid Dyspei)sia, 
Malarial Poisoning, <fec. It is par excellence a remedy. Endorsed by medical men of the highest distinction. 

Water in Cases of one dozen half gallon bottles, S5 per case, at the Springs* 

THOS. F. GOODE, Proprietor, BUFFALO LITHIA SPRINGS, VA. 




ILiilSTRATlVE 
AND ADVeKHSIKQ 


pr^ricn-rtT 7S0 C^1C3TMUr^5rl 

P/ 11 kADfIpjUA«PA»* 



^ _ SRK* Place* 
INE.W YORA.^ii 



ART STAINED GLASS 

FOR 

CHURCHES AND DWELLINGS, 
WILXjZA.3^ ZLEITII, 

134 N. 7th St., Philadelphia, Pa. 


CURE The DEAF 

Peck’s Patent Improved Cush- 
ioned Ear Drums Perfectly Re- 
store the Heariiiff, whether deaf, 
ness is caused by colds, fevers or in. 
juries to the natural dnims. _ Invisible, 
comfortable, always in position. Mu- 
sic, conversation, whiners h^rd dis- 
tinctly. Write te F. HISCOX, 853 
Broadway, cor. 14 th St.Newi^rk, foe 
illustrated book of proofs h REE. 

FACIAL~BLEMISHES. 

Largest Establishment in the world for 
their treatment. Facial Development, 
Hair and Scalp, Superfluous Hair, Birth 
Marks, Moles, Warts, Moth, Freckles, 
Wrinkles, Red Nose, Acne, Pimples. 
'Bl’k Heads, Scars, Pitting, etc., and 
, their treatment. Send loc. for 50-page 
i'book treating on 25 Skin Imperfections. 
(Dp. JOHN H. WOODBURY, 37 N. Pearl St., 
Albany, N.Y. Established 1870. Inventor 
of Facial Appliances, Springs, etc. Six Parlors. 






LIPPINCOTT'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 



HIE AND 




OME GYMNASTICS. 

For the Preservation and Restoration of Health in Children and Young 
and Old People of Both Sexes. With a Short Method of Acquiring the 
Art of Swimming. By Prof. T. J. Hartelius, M.D. Translated and 
adapted from the Swedish, by C. Lofving. With 31 Illustrations. i2mo. 
Flexible cloth covers. 60 cents. 


“ A practical manual of easy gymnastics for persons of all ages. The physiological effects 
of every movement are explained, and. the diagrams and directions make the volume very plain 
and useful.” — New. York World. 

** It is an admirable little book, and deserves to be known by those to whom their health is 
a valuable consideration.” — Brooklyn Eagle. 

“ An excellent little book upon the preservation of health by exercise. It contains informa- 
tion and advice that will be found of benefit to almost every reader.” — Boston Sat. Eve. Gazette. 



OW TO WRITE ENGLISH. 

A Practical Treatise on English Composition, 
author of ‘‘Study and Stimulants,’* efc. i6mo. 
60 cents. 


By A. Arthur Reade, 
Flexible cloth cover. 


“A clearly-written, instructive, simple, straightforward, and encouraging guide.” — Reporters* 
Magazine. 

Instead of being a dull treatise, or a wearisome grammar, it is a book which will be read, 
and, it is to be hoped, studied by many young people who would be repelled by dry and technical 
works, which are too common.” — Christia^i World. 


THE PRIMER OF POLITENESS: 

J A Help to School and Home Government. By Alexander M. Gow, 
A.M. i2mo. Extra cloth, limp. 75 cents. 

“ His^advice is enforced and made attractive by a judicious selection of appropriate anecdotes, 
so that his book is an edifying combination of instruction and entertainment. There is plenty of 
room for such a work, and we hope it will find an extensive sale.” — North American. 



DRILL-BOOK IN ALGEBRA. 

Exercises for Class-Drill and Review. Arranged according to subjects. 
By Marshall Livingston Perrin, A.M. i2mo. Cloth limp. Teachers’ 
Edition, with Answers. 75 cents. f Scholars’ Edition, Questions Only. 
60 cents.'!' 


“ As a practice-book or manual, we know of no other that so adequately fills the require- 
ments as this of Mr. Perrin’s.” — New York School Journal. 

“An exceedingly useful little book.” — PI. E. Journal of Education. 

“ The work comprehends the whole subject from notation to logarithms, and will be found 
to be an invaluable aid in the study of algebra.” — Normal Teacher. 


OBJECT LESSONS. 

The Handy-Book of Object Lessons. From a Teacher’s Note-Book. By J. 
Walker. First and Second Series complete. i2mo. Extra cloth. ^1.25. 

Embracing Lessons on the following subjects, viz. : The Animal, Vegetable, and 
Mineral Kingdoms; Physiology; Physical Geography ; Manufactures. 

“ The work is admirable in arrangement, simple and natural in method, and clear and com- 
prehensive generally. Taken altogether, it is one of the best and most practical books in its kind 
that has as yet appeared.” — Boston Saturday Evening Post. 


%* For sale by all Booksellers, or will be sent by mail, postage prepaid, on receipt of the 
price by 


J. B. LIPPINOOTT COMPANY, Publishers, 715 and 717 Market St., Philadelphia. 

37 


LIPPINCOTTS MONTHLY MAGAZINE ADVERTISER, 


What is the Price of Success? 

Morning— Toil ; Noon— Toil; Night— Toil; and then— mind 
palsied; eflfectiveness maimed; vigor prostrate. 

Is there no rest for the weary? 

Yes! It may he found in 



Nervous Prostration. 


Neither sick nor well, yet ever de- 
pressed. Physical work a weariness ; 
mental effort an exhaustion ; activity 
an aversion. A life cheerless of hope. Physicians are baffled ; tonics stimulate, then depress ; 
illusive as the transient relief of seashore and mountain. 

Excessive and prolonged work, confinement, and anxiety often produce this low state of 
vitality among business and professional men. The weary and depressed convalescent, after a 
long struggle for life or a brief encounter with some acute attack, has barely won in the strife 
between life and death. He yields enfeebled and exhausted. The physician is often unable to 
restore health and strength. Thus the poor invalid drags from year to year a almost helpless 
existence, or sinks into gradual decline. 

The great need is a new force at the centre of life. Now an agent that can restore vital 
activity must in the very nature of things give back health and strength to the nervously-pros- 
trated invalid. Such an agent has been discovered in Drs. Starkey & Patents well-tried 
treatment. It is now a long-conceded fact that their Treatment by Inhalation acts directly upon 
the great nerve-centres, rendering them efficient, vigorous, and active, and capable of generating 
more and more of the vital forces, until the system is restored to a state of physical integrity. 
By this means many have been saved from softening of the brain and neurasthenia. 

In proof of this we give the testimony of the following well-known persons : 


Office of Arthur's Home Magazine. 

223 S. bih St., Philada., fan i, 187S. 

**Drs. Starkey & Palen: Hear Sirs, — 1 do not 
think that I can say anything stronger in favor of your 
Oxygen Treatment than I have already said. Your Dr. 
Starkey knows how run down, enervated, and exhausted 
I had become, and with what reluctance and lack of 
faith I at last yielded to his friendly efforts to induce me 
to try the new agent of cure which had come into his 
hands. At that time, as I then told him, I had laid down 
all earnest literary work and never expected to take it 
up again. My friends gave me but a short lease of life. 
But within six months my pen was resumed, and before 
the year closed I had completed one of my largest and 
most earnestly- written books ; closing the last page 
without any of the old sense of exhaustion. Since then 
there has scarcely been a day in which I have not been 
hard at work in my study from three to five hours ; and 
afl this without any return of the weak and tired feeling 
from which 1 had suffered for so many years. For all 
this I consider myself indebted to your Treatment by 
Inhalation. Yours, etc., 

** T. S. Arthur.*' 


Melrose, Mass., Feb. i, 1884. 

** Drs. Starkey & Palen, Philadelphia: Hear Sirs , — 
I am entirely willing to make a statement of the benefit 
I have received from the Compound Oxygen Treatment, 
and that you should make such use of it as you please. 

Four years ago this spring, at the end of a very severe 
and exhausting winter's work, I found myself utterly 
broken down in health. My superb constitution had 
hitherto carried me triumphantly through every task I 
had imposed upon myself, and had been equal to every 
base of protracted labor that had fallen to my lot. But 
was now completely prostrated, with no power of re- 
cuperation. My husband immediately ordered the ma- 
terials for a Home Treatment of two months. I used it 
for a month, punctiliously obeying the directions sent for 
its use, before I began to rally. Then my return to good 
health was rapid, and since then I have enjoyed almost 
uniterrupted perfect health and almost youthful vigor. 
I resumed work immediately, and have assiduously fol- 
lowed the most laborious vocation ever since, although 
long past the time of life when it is considered safe to toil 
severely and unremittingly. Yours truly, 

** Mary A. Livermore." 


This Treatment by Inhalation has a history wonderful in its way, and worth reading by 
everybody whose life is worth preserving. That history is embodied in a very interesting two- 
hundred-page treatise, which is sent by mail on application. Please address Drs. Starkey & 
Palen, 1529 Arch Street, Philadelphia, Pa., 331 Montgomery Street, San Francisco, Cal., 58 
Church Street, Toronto, Canada. 


38 









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